Mockingjay: Katniss' Hijacking
by MrsMellark74
Summary: During the final moments of the Quarter Quell Peeta Mellark was rescued by the District 13 rebels and Katniss Everdeen was taken to the Capitol to be tortured. A plot twist on the original version of Mockingjay. [Peeta's POV] (This story follows much of the original story line only with the swap of Katniss and Peeta)
1. Prologue

****IMPORTANT****

This story is a re-write of Mockingjay from Peeta's point of view as if he was saved by the rebels and Katniss was captured by the Capitol during the Quarter Quell. A lot of the original plot has been changed to fit Peeta better HOWEVER the structure and much of this stories sequence belongs to Suzanne Collins.

_**Prologue **_

I sprint, attempting to put as much distance between Finnick, Beetee and myself as I can. I'm not sure why they insisted that Katniss and I separate, but it is clear to me now how that plan was flawed. Now I must run and find Katniss before someone else does. However, I pause at the sight of two much larger opponents who stand before me. I slip my body behind a tree hoping that they do not see me or hear me stomping through the jungle.

I watch as Brutus' spear enters into Chaff's chest. He collapses to the ground, the cannon signalling his end. This sight fills me with a sudden rage. I just can't stand being trapped inside this dome anymore. I can't stand the fact that people were able to manipulate me into separating from Katniss. I can't stand the fact that I so carelessly threw my own judgement out of the window. Without thinking, I take my machete and stab it into the center of Brutus' back before he can turn around and spot me. His cry of pain makes me shudder, especially knowing that I've caused it. Before he crashes to the ground, he attempts to defend himself by throwing a spear in the same place that causes Chaff's death blow. Yet, he misses as he fights his most certain death, but his spear skims my shoulder. The pain makes me wince as I too call out in terror, yet it becomes hidden by the sound of Brutus' cannon.

When I become brave enough to examine the wound, I see a large gaping dent in my shoulder that is pouring out blood. I grab some moist moss from a tree above me and begin to run, because I only have one mission left.

"Katniss, where are you?" I shout, not caring at this point who hears me. My only goal is to find her and protect her. I could not live with myself if I lost her now. Allowing Beetee to separate us was my first mistake, and now I must locate her again.

"Katniss!" I continue hollering, but my running turns to stumbling as I realize I am losing to much blood. But I force myself to stay upright; I have to find her.

"Peeta!" I hear her yell back and her voice instantly widens my eyes.

I am now screaming her name, "Katniss, Katniss!" Hoping to draw all attention away from her yells because I know she is probably trying to do the same thing for me.

I begin running again, but trip over a tree root and land directly onto my shoulder. The pain is blinding and I find myself wishing that I could just stay here on the ground. It would not be the worst place to die. It is rather comfortable and I am just so tired.

"Peeta!" Her voice echoes through my ears and immediately pulls me back onto my feet

"Katniss! Where are you? Stay with me!" I yell, begging her to reach me. I want to hold her and tell her that she will be alright, but I can't seem to get to her. Something is wrong. There is clearly some plan set in place by the other members of our alliance that we were not aware of. I wish we would have set off on our own before this. I should have listened to her when she tried to convince me to leave. Yet I didn't and there is no one to blame but myself.

I try jogging, but stumble and land onto my shoulder again. I begin to see small black dots in my vision and I know this is not good. In the distance, I hear a deafening explosion and can only hope that it does not involve Katniss. Yet a strange feeling in my stomach makes me think that it does. I am on the verge of passing out and my quick moss bandage is dripping blood. The dark crimson colour is the last thing I see before my vision goes completely black.

* * *

When I wake, I am being lifted. I am being carried by a hovercraft crane. What waits above is most likely torture. Yet, the only thought in my mind is that of Katniss Everdeen, and the hope that she is okay. My mind goes black once more.

* * *

When my brain begins to enter back into sub consciousness, I notice how I am lying on a cold metal table. There are tubes running into my arms and the beeping of monitors by my head. I can tell they are trying to keep my alive with all of these devices. When I open my eyes, I realize that I am alone, except for Beetee who is clearly being sustained by an army of machines. I still am not sure where we are right now. If we are headed to the Capitol, surely they plan on killing us; there is no way they will allow all of us rebellious tributes to live. But where are the others? Who all made it out and survived this mess? Finnick, Johanna, Enobaria...Katniss?

The thought of Katniss being alive forces my body up to a sitting position. Surely she is being kept somewhere else on this hovercraft, I just need to find out where that location is so I can finally be with her and create some plan to get us both out of here. I rip the tubes out of my arms and quietly begin walking to the exit of this small sterile room.

"Katniss..." I whisper, hoping to hear her voice calling back in return.

I step down a slim hallway to a large silver door that is slightly cracked open. Someone is behind it; for a moment I am excited, hoping that perhaps it is Katniss. However, I know that would most likely be untrue. Instead, I press my ear against the door and listen to the voices inside.

"Communications are down in Seven, Ten, and Twelve. But Eleven has control of transportation now, so there's at least a hope of them getting some food out."

I know who that voice belongs to. Plutarch Heavensbee; Head Games Maker. I fight off a chill because his voice only confirms that we are indeed heading to the Capitol.

Just as I am about to sprint away, I hear more voices. Another voice speaks, but it is too quiet for me to make out. Yet, a hoarse voice that I would recognize anywhere answers the questions asked; Haymitch.

"No. I'm sorry. There's no way I can get you to Four. But I've given special orders for her retrieval if possible. It's the best I can do, Finnick."

Haymitch, Finnick. Why the hell are they talking to Plutarch? After all the pain and suffering he has caused us, why in the world are they associating? And Finnick, why would Haymitch be speaking with someone who attempted to kill me. My mind struggles to make sense of this conversation. Are they perhaps trying to reason with Plutarch to give us surviving victors some kind of immunity? And where is Katniss? I am suddenly scared she is badly injured because if she was awake, I know she would be in this room right now, speaking with Haymitch. It continues until I can't take in anymore. I swing the door open and drag myself into the room.

Plutarch, Haymitch, and an extremely beat up Finnick sit around a table. There is an untouched meal graced upon it and from outside the window, I can see the tops of trees pass by as the hovercraft soars.

"Awh Peeta! Welcome back to reality." Haymitch says.

I step forward, not sure of how I should be reacting. Right now, all I seem to feel is betrayal. I knew Finnick betrayed me the moment I left him to find Katniss, but Haymitch? Up until now I always saw him as an ally and someone whom I could trust. We were a team.

I watch Plutarch set a bowl of soup and a fresh roll down in front of an empty seat at the table. He slips a spoon into my hand. "Eat." He says in a voice that is calmer then Haymitch's.

"Peeta, I am going to explain everything that happened in the arena. But I do not want you to ask any questions until I'm done. Do you understand?" Haymitch asks.

"Where is Katniss?" I reply bitterly, ignoring his request.

Haymitch sighs. "Do you understand?"

I narrow my eyes at him and nod, knowing that I will be forced to listen to everything despite only wanting one question to be answered. And this is what he tells me.

There was a plan to break us all out of that arena once the Quarter Quell was announced. All of the victors' tributes from districts 3, 4, 6, 7, 8, and 11 had at least some knowledge of this plan. It also turns out that for several years, Plutarch Heavensbee has been part of an undercover group to overthrow the Capitol. He was the one to make sure Beetee's wire was among the weapons. Beetee was then in charge of blowing a hole in the force field. The bread from the arena was code to the knowledgeable tributes about our rescue time as well. The hovercraft that we are currently riding in belongs to District 13, which is where we are currently being taken to right now, while many the other Districts are in full-scale rebellion.

Eventually, Haymitch pauses and it is an awful lot to take in. I also cannot seem to shake the feeling of manipulation.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, my voice rising towards Haymitch. "You promised no more secrets!"

"Neither you or Katniss were told. It was too dangerous and we couldn't risk you mentioning it during the games." Plutarch adds.

"Where is she?" I ask in a much sterner voice then I had previously.

All three sets of eyes turn off my gaze. "Where is Katniss?" I demand, banging my fist onto the table.

"The Capitol got her...along with Johanna and Enobaria." He finally replies.

One time, when I was eleven, my mother made me climb onto the roof of the bakery to fix a small leak. I was only a small child at that point and slipped off of the roof after attempting to repair it. I fell and landed straight onto my back. During that moment, the wind was knocked completely out of my body and I wasn't sure I was capable of taking in another breath. I didn't think I would never experience something like that ever again; until this very moment.

My heart suddenly feels like it has stopped beating and I have the greatest urge to get up from my chair and ram my fists down Haymitch's throat. We had a deal to protect her and he failed. Yet that is when I remember; we both failed. My mind begins to comprehend the fact that Katniss will never be coming home; the Capitol will torture her for information she is unaware of and kill her. I clench my hands into fists and bring them to my eyes attempting to block out all that is around me. I let out a blood curdling scream and begin to sob. The salty tears are pouring down my face and over my mouth; I have lost her.

"Peeta, Peeta...I'm sorry! They'll figure out she doesn't know anything and won't kill her if they believe they can use her against you!" Finnick's voice in the last voice I hear before a sharp pain hits my neck.

* * *

When I wake up again, I know that we must be in District 13. The walls are grey and it smells of dusts. There is no energy down here and it feels very depressing; making me feel hopeless. In ways, District 13 and myself have a lot of common. Many people have tried to feed me, but I refuse to eat. They will dress me, only to find that I soil my clothing within an hour. They pump liquids into my veins, but they do not do much. It takes more than these simple liquids to keep a person alive once they have lost their will to live.

I'm not sure how long I have been here when Haymitch enters the room. He looks at me and I can tell he is concerned.  
"Haymitch," I begin, "I just want to go _home._"

These are the first words I have spoken in days and judging by his answer, I can tell that he does not understand what _home_ actually means to me right now. And what _home_ I am really referring to.

"Peeta, we can't go home. There is no District 12."


	2. Chapter 1

I breathe in the cold ash-filled air, staring at the empty lot in front of me. This is where I spent so many hours of my day. This is where I grew up; where I discovered that baking was something I could be good at. And now nothing is left but the ashes that contain my memories and my family. The bakery was obliterated and so were they.

There is basically nothing remaining of District 12 now. A month ago, the Capitol's firebombs destroyed everything its wake. The only area that remains is the Victors Village; the most useless part of the District. No one has come back to Twelve now. It is literally a _ghost down._ All of its citizens are either in 13, or dead. And right now, I'm not quite sure which would have been the better option.

It took a long time to convince Plutarch and the president of District 13, Alma Coin, to let me come here. I'm not sure why, considering that there is really no harm at all. But, I wanted to come back, for myself and for Katniss. She has been taken prisoner by the Capitol along with Johanna, Enobaria, and Finnick's lover, Annie. We are not sure what they are doing to them at this point. Plutarch reminds me of how they are still much too valuable, so odds are, they will not be killed. Tortured, but not killed.

It turns out Haymitch and Plutarch had a goal to rescue Katniss over me from the beginning; a plan that I wish with every part of my soul was carried through. But it wasn't until they got inside the area; I was the first tribute spotted and Coin had given direct orders to get me out first. She figured I would do better on camera considering I was the one who always did the speaking for both Katniss and I. However, her plan failed because I have not done too much speaking since returning from the arena. My hatred for Coin is strong and I do not think there is much she could ever do to make me forgive her. But as for everyone else, Katniss is still our Mockingjay. Plutarch wants to inform the Districts of her capture and showcase me as the symbol of the rebels until she returns.

I keep myself alive simply on the promises from Haymitch that the rebels would eventually be working through a plan to rescue her. As long as Katniss lives, I live in hopes that I could be used somehow in her rescue. Gale has already volunteered himself to lead her rescue mission, but I doubt they would ever let me be a part of it considering I am labelled as someone who is mentally unstable.

"Peeta, should we come down?" Haymitch's voice enters my head through a headset that he insisted I wear. They are up in a hovercraft watching carefully and ready to swoop down if anything goes amiss. I realize now that I have been staring blankly at the obliterated bakery for probably ten minutes now, so they most likely assumed I was on the verge of another meltdown or something.

I lift my shoulders and stand straighter. "No, I'm alright." I begin pacing towards the direction of the Victors Village to show them that I am still capable of movement.

The summer has been unbearably hot and dry that the piles of ash still remain untouched. I keep my eyes forward, not wanting to look at the ground and see the remains of the people I once knew so well. When we first arrived, I was not careful of this and walked straight into the remains of someone's leg. More chillingly was the fact that it was small in size; a child perhaps. All of these people tried to flee while I was trapped in an arena. Gale deserved the credit for the survivors however; it was he who decided to lead them to the meadow. It is impossible to hate Gale; he has done too much. I just wish my family would have made it into the group of survivors. But because Katniss and I chose to be rebellious, these innocent people suffered. I don't blame either of us though. I blame the Capitol; I blame President Snow. This is his doing and his fault; not mine. I tell myself that twenty times a day. It helps keep me sane on those days where I don't think I can go on.

When I reach the Victors Village, I stop myself in front of my house. I lived here alone for less then a year after coming out of my first arena. I wasn't sure if I really wanted to go back in, but right now, something is telling me that I should give it one final goodbye because odds are I won't return here. I walk inside the house that is warm from the summer's air but only dare to grab a few things. I was never fond of this house and have a great desire to get out as soon as possible. From the fireplace mantel, I grab a photo of the family I lost. Next, I take one of my father's baking aprons that I am not very thankful I brought home randomly one day. Finally, I dash up the stairs and into my art room. I open the door and suddenly a strong aroma hits me like a tonne of bricks.

Right on the easel that contains a portrait of Katniss and I inside a cave, sits a fresh white rose. Only one person could have left me a gift such as this; President Snow. I take the rose and the glass vase it stands in and slam it out of my window. Then I open the large window wider, in hopes of clearing out the foul smell. I pick up my brushes and a set of paints and dash down the stairs, out the door immediately. The acknowledgement that someone from the Capitol or perhaps even the President himself, has entered my house without me being aware of it, is chilling.

I look over to Katniss' house; the home she shared with both her mother and sister. I walk in the front door, somehow hoping that she will be inside waiting to greet me. However, her home, just like mine, is so eerily empty. I walked inside and try to decide what items I should take back to 13 with me that she would want. After a bit of searching, I settle on an old photo of her parents' wedding day, her father's hunting jacket, and her family's book of medical plants. I open the book gently and instantly flip to the back where my creations are so carefully crafted on the pages. I see Katniss' elegant handwriting below the plants and trace her letters with my fingers. Some of my greatest memories in life occurred when the two of us decided to work on this book. We would sit together for hours sometimes, listening to each other's breaths; Katniss studying my hands as I painted each detail. The way I would catch her staring at me and pretend not to notice. That is what I will miss. I close the book because suddenly I am worried I will start crying.

I hastily make my way up into her bedroom to make sure there is nothing of importance I should bring along. When I open the door, the bright red colour catches my eye. Lying upon her bed is a single red rose; the flower meant for two lovers. The blood inside my veins begins to boil and I have an intense urge to break something. How dare he do this to me? I realize now that Snow will attempt to do anything that will break me, and I must remain strong.

Suddenly, a noise sounds behind my back. I turn quickly at the sound of a hiss and spot Prim's old cat. What was his name again? Buttercup.

"Buttercup, do you want to go see Prim?" At the sound of her name, his ears perk up. I reach out my hand and gently stroke him behind the ears, demonstrating to him that I will not hurt him. I grab a blanket from Katniss' closet and wrap the cat inside it and clutch him against my chest. Prim will be happy to see him and I know she could use a little happiness right now. She has been spending much of her time in the hospital working for them. I can tell she is trying to channel the pain of losing her sister into her work. She does not seem like the frightened young girl Katniss once volunteered for. She is older and braver now. The Capitol has managed to steel the youth of another innocent child.

Before I leave her bedroom, I lift the red rose from her bed and bring it with me downstairs, I light a small fire in her fireplace and toss the flower into the flames. I watch as it turns to ashes; a symbol to President Snow that I am much more than just a piece in his games.

* * *

**Thank you guys for checking out my story! I am so excited to share this one with you! Make sure to follow my twitter ** TributeGirlEm** for updates and sneak peeks to future chapters! I will also answer any question you have about this story on my a**skfm- TributeGirlEmma** . Please leave me a review about your thoughts on this story so far and what you would like to see in future chapters! I will be putting this story on a weekly schedule where I will be posting a new chapter every Saturday so stay tuned! **


	3. Chapter 2

It takes a few minutes for Plutarch to confirm that the airspace is clear before we can officially speed out of District 12. He has to make sure that no Capitol hovercrafts have spotted us and are attempting to make a beeline over to attack us at once.

I sit in an empty seat against the wall of the hovercraft with Buttercup seated next to me. I stroke his back as he lets out soft purrs at my touch. For some reason, it comforts me.

"Pretty bad down there?" Speaks a deep familiar voice.

I look up and see Gale standing in his mandatory grey District 13 outfit. His arms are crossed protectively in front of himself as his silver eyes that so closely resemble Katniss' stare down at me. I'm not surprised the Capitol tried to pass them off as cousins. They really do look somewhat similar.

"I don't think it could possiblly get much worse," I reply, looking down at the disheveled cat, not truly wanting to meet his eyes.

"It was wise of you, to grab the belonging that you did from her house." Gale tells me somewhat awkwardly.

I'm not sure really how to describe the relationship we share. It is definitely not hatred, but I would not exactly call it a friendship. I consider Gale more of a friendly acquaintance. At times, we are jealous of each other; other times, thankful. However, we do have something very important in common: we both lost something that meant a great deal to us.

"I just thought they could all use something from home to hang on to," I reply.

There is a pause for a moment. Gale and I do not say anything, but instead just take in the presence of one another.

"You know, you make it really hard for me to hate you." He finally states with a grin.

I can't help but chuckle at his words. "I feel the same way."

For the rest of the ride back to 13, Gale and I sit next to each other with only Buttercup to separate us. We don't say anything, but just being there with each other offers more meaning than any words would be able to.

When we finally arrive in 13, it is grievously not much of an improvement over 12. The air is just as chilling and the vibe just as depressing. It is no longer full of smoke like they advertise on the Capitol television programs, but almost nothing remains above ground. District 13 was rebuilt underground deep below the earth's surface therefore these people hardly ever see sunlight. District 13 agreed to play dead if the Capitol agreed to leave them alone during the dark days. However, it is awfully concerning that for seventy-five years, they sat back doing nothing while the rest of the twelve districts were forced to send our children into the Capitol's deadly arenas. Now the citizens live almost exclusively underground. Each citizen is given a strict schedule that must be obeyed and every person above the age of fourteen is addressed as "soldier".

They only just recently started giving me a schedule because for the longest time, I was living in and out of the hospital. Even though my physical state was excellent and easily fixed, my psychological state was a different story. It took multiple therapists and many days to be able to convince me that losing Katniss to the Capitol was not my fault. However, I am still not to sure I am convinced. Now I am moved to Compartment 305 and expected to get with the program. Katniss' mother lives in Compartment 312 and often comes in to check on me; to make sure I'm still breathing. On my better days, I feel the need to check on them because I make myself remember that I am not the only one who lost a loved one here.

Today I decidto make a special trip up to the hospital to see Finnick Odair; the sex god of the Capitol. If only they could see him now. Finnick wears the same plastic medical bracelet as me, that classifies us both as mentally disoriented. The only difference is, Finnick is even more severe than myself. The day I heard the theory of Katniss most likely being alive, I made myself stand and attempted a return to a normal life. Finnick, however, refuses to get out of bed.

When I enter his small room, I am surprised to see that the nurses have gotten him to sit up; a small improvement over his previous state. He sits there, lost in his own world, feverishly tying knots in a small strand of rope.

"Finnick!" I exclaim in my most cheerful voice. "It's nice to see you up and awake."

He looks up briefly from his rope. I can see the colour that has drained from his eyes. He offers me a half-smile and then goes back to tying.

"Good news!" I announce. "I'm going to see Haymitch and Coin to talk about their rescue mission."

Finnick's head perks up at this statement and he drops the rope onto his lap.

"Really?" He questions. "I should probably come with you, in case they talk about Annie."

He attempts to get out of bed before an alarm sounds that rushes three nurses into the room. They motion him back into bed and instruct him to stay sitting. I can tell that this is making him extremely anxious because the idea of Annie's rescue is his only desire right now.

"It's alright, Finnick. I'll go and come back to tell you everything that goes on." I tell him, taking a step closer to his bed and resting my hand upon his chilled arm.

"Promise?" He replies, sounding unconvinced.

"Of course."

With that, I exit the hospital and make my way to the elevator that will take me to Command. I strongly detest elevators because they remind me of the ones that took me up into the dreaded Hunger Games, and sadly, District 13 is full of elevators.

When I arrive in Command, the many high-tech electronic maps are lit up with the movements of troops in various districts. A group of people sit around a giant table filled with control panels. Plutarch waves me over to the table and I take a seat between him and Gale.

They are all watching the large television screens that are broadcasting the usual Capitol propaganda; replaying the District 12 bombings or some useless message of encouragements from President Snow. When Caesar Flickerman pops up on the screen, it is almost a relief to see his over-the-top and entertaining personality. His face is painted like always and he is dressed an extravagant sparkly suit. The entertainment of the situation fades however, when the camera goes wide and I see that his guest is Katniss.

The sound that escapes me is one that I was not sure I was able to make. It is a combination of pure relief, but also of extreme fear that she may be harmed. I am instantly up on my feet and pushing everyone out of my way to get to the screen that holds her face. Gale is on my heels and together, people quickly step out of our way.

My eyes scan hers, searching for any type of pain or signs of torture. I am the closest person to the screen, so I take my hands and place them onto it as if I was reaching out to caress her cheek. She looks healthy, strong even; nothing like how I last saw her in the arena. She is beautiful; radiant. Her skin is glowing and almost sparkling in that full body polished type of way. She is composed, but clearly uncomfortable; not much different than any of her other Capitol interviews from the past.

Caesar situates himself in a white chair across from her and gives her a flashing smile. "So... Katniss...welcome back."

Katniss does her best to smile at him, but I can tell how completely forced her efforts are.

"I must confess, I thought I had done my last interview with you. Who ever thought we'd see you again?" Caesar says.

"It wasn't part of my plan, that's for sure." Katniss replies, looking down at her hands.

A stabbing sensation jabs my heart because I know exactly what she is talking about. Her and I were both only trying to save each other; our own lives were not what we were hoping to save.

Caesar leans in a little closer to her. "I think it was clear to all of us what your plan was: to sacrifice yourself in the arena so that Peeta Mellark could survive."

I can't see him, but I can feel Gale's eyes trained on the back of my head.

"That was it." Katniss replies, her fingers tracing the pattern in the chair. "But other people had plans as well."

I wonder if she is piecing together what has happened. Truly nobody in the Capitol has informed her. Maybe she understands how Haymitch has betrayed us both by not informing us of the plan.

For awhile, there is silence. I notice the creases that have formed by her eyes. But the Capitol has not killed her, or has even hurt her and right now, that is more than I could have ever even hoped for. I take in her image; the beauty of her body and the sound of her voice. It runs through me like medicine in my veins, giving me the strength to get through these next few days.

"Why don't you tell us about the last night in the arena?" Suggests Caesar. "Help us to sort a few things out."

Katniss narrows her eyes at him and I can tell she does not want to speak. I know her too well by now to understand that she does not believe she should have to sort anything out for these people. However, eventually she begins after a little coaxing from Caeser.

"Well, that last night...," she begins, "in that horrible arena, felt like being trapped like a rabbit caught in a snare. Every minute I was worrying that I could be killed, or worse, that Peeta could be killed. That's what it felt like to be in that arena. During those last two days, sixteen people had been killed, some of them defending me."

My body begins to shake at the memory. The memory of the morphling girl giving her life to save me, and Katniss mentioning my name for the first time.

"Clearly, my last desire was to save Peeta, but things didn't feel right." She snaps. "I regret not running off earlier that day."

_Me too, Katniss, me too._

"You were too caught up in Beetee's plan to electrify the salt lake." Caesar says.

"And to busy playing allies with the others. I should have never let them separate us!" She is shouting now. "I should have taken care of them all when I had the chance. I could hear Peeta yelling for my name, but I couldn't get to him."

* * *

**Authors Note:**

**I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! I will still be posting one on Saturday I just wanted to give you all a bonus chapter! I just feel like getting this story moving! I also understand that this story is still new, so my review tally is not very high. Yet I needed to say thank you because most of the people who did review have been with me since way back when. I recognized your usernames because I know you were avid Guarding Daisies readers. It means so much to me that you are back and supporting me again! You guys really have no idea how much you mean to me and how appreciative I am of your support. I look forward to hearing from you all again and of course hearing from my new readers! I love new ideas and comments! Make sure to follow my twitter** TributeGirlEm** for updates and sneak peeks to future chapters! You can also find me on my TributeGirlEmma and ask me any questions about this story there! Thank you for reading and I will see you guys again on Saturday.**


	4. Chapter 3

That night my dreams are filled with Katniss. Most nights she appears in them anyways, but usually I am graced with nightmares that involve losing her. Tonight, however, all of my dreams are peaceful. In my dreams, we are together and safe; somewhere far off at home - in District 12. A meadow perhaps. She is not in the grasp of the Capitol and I am not in Thirteen fighting against her with the rebels. When I wake up, I am saddened because for once, my dreams were peaceful and far better than my reality. I feel somewhat betrayed by my own brain for giving me such a false hope that things were okay again.

I force myself out of bed and dress in my drab District 13 clothing. Right now I miss my stylist Portia. I never thought I would miss all of her Capitol designs, but she always had a way of making me feel comfortable in my outfits. She used to add shades of green into my style hoping that it would intrigue Katniss, considering it was her favourite. And right now, I would love to wear a nice green or orange shirt instead of this plain grey head to toe outsift. As painter I understand how the use of colours can play such a role in one's mood. For me colours like orange, green, and yellow make me feel joyed. Yet colors like grey manage to make me feel even more depressed on top of these already horrible situations.

My schedule for today includes: 7:00am-breakfast followed by 7:30am-Command. This is where they will announce me as the official face of the rebels. . .well the temporary official face of the rebels. Katniss is their Mockingjay, and I know that I can never replace her. She may not be Coin's Mockingjay, but to the citizen's of this nation she is. Yet my job is to act as a source of hope, for not only her rescue but for the future of Panem. However I have decided that I have many conditions before I accept this role.

I sit at breakfast alone today eating my mashed turnips and ponder these requests. First and most importantly is to work through a plan to rescue Katniss and the other victors held hostage in the Capitol. Next, I am desiring immunity for them because many people here are considering them as traitors now after Katniss requested to cease fire. Some people even suggested leaving them with the Capitol and stopping any attempt at a rescue. I am so far away from Katniss but this request will hopefully be a strong attempt in keeping her safe. These are my only two requests therefore, they must have no problems accepting them.

Just as I am about to leave the dining hall, Prim spots me and waves me over. She is sitting with some other nurses and a few patients who have been given the clearance to eat with the other citizens, one of them includes Finnick. He looks somewhat better, so I give him a friendly smile and he returns me one back before finishing his meal.

"Peeta, I'm glad I found you!" She exclaims. "I was worried because the guards almost found Buttercup yesterday."

I had almost forgot about my rescue of Prim's beloved cat, and how District 13 has a strict no pets policy.

"Don't worry Prim; I'll take care of it today." I say, reassuring her.

She hugs me quick and I make my way out of the hall.

By the time I arrive in Command, Coin, Plutarch, and all of their people are already assembled. I also notice Gale in the crowd, waiting to here my address. I take a seat at the table and grab a piece of paper to scribble my requests onto. I make sure to pencil in Prim's desire of keeping Buttercup in their quarters.

This is my only chance to really bargain with these people, so I know I have to be stern with my words.

"So after much consideration, I have come up with a reasonable plan." I begin. "I will take on this new role you have designed for me, being the so called _face_ for the rebels."

Everyone around the table exchanges smiles of relief and slap each other on the back. Coin is looking proudly at the others, as if showing them how smart she was is choosing me to rescue over Katniss. Everyone except for Gale, that is, who I know can tell I must have more to say.

"But- I have a few conditions I would like to discuss first." I interrupt.

The room becomes quieter as I smooth out my paper.

"Firstly, Primrose Everdeen gets to keep her pet cat." I state.

This first request that I assumed would be so simple sets of an argument right away. After what seems like hours, it is decided that Prim gets to keep Buttercup and will be moved to a new compartment near the top of 13 that contains a small window at the top that will allow Buttercup to come and go as he pleases. He will also be expected to feed himself and if he misses curfew, he will be locked out. If he has any security issues, he will be shot on sight.

I reluctantly agree and decide not to inform Prim of the last part of that deal.

"Next, I want to set up an official plan to rescue the remaining victors in the Capitol."

"A plan will be drawn up immediately, but when it will be put into action, we are not sure of. It is too dangerous right now." Coin replies.

"Fair enough," I reply back sternly.

I have one final request and for my first two, I have been very lenient. However, this one I know I will stand by no matter what.

"All of the victors in the Capitol; Katniss, Johanna, Annie, and Enobaria, will be pardoned and given total immunity when brought back to 13. No form of punishment will be delivered to any of them." I state, looking directly into the eyes of President Coin.

Her eyes gaze back up and meet my own.

"No." She replies flatly.

"Yes!" I shout back. "It is not their fault you didn't manage to scoop them out of the arena too."

"They'll be tried with the other war criminals and treated as justice sees fit." She says.

"They'll be granted immunity, or you can find a new face for this rebellion, because I promise you right now that I will not speak a word promoting the rebels until you personally promise in front of Thirteen's population that you will agree. You rescued you me because you wanted a voice, and I can assure you, you will not get mine until you promise their immunity."

My words hang in the air for a long moment and I only now realize that I am standing.

"That is exactly what we want," I hear Fulvia whisper to Plutarch, "that voice with a cloud of smoke and gunfire in the background; a perfect propo."

"Yes, it is perfect!" Plutarch replies.

I glare at them both, but am almost thankful for their remarks so that Coin will understand how powerful my words can be in this rebellion.

"What do you say, President?" asks Plutarch. "You could issue an official pardon given the circumstances."

"All right," Coin says finally, "but you'd better perform."

"I will, once you make an announcement." I reply.

"Call a national security assembly during Reflection today," she orders. "I'll make the announcement then."

I breath a sigh of relief.

"There is one other thing we wanted to discuss." Coin begins. "And it may seem odd, but it is actually rather important on how others view you during this rebellion."

I am puzzled, wondering what could possibly be this important that they feel the need to address it now.

"It involves both Peeta's and Gale's relationship with Katniss."

My mouth drops open and with one look at Gale, I can tell he wants to slap the words right out of Coin's mouth. How dare she question something so personal? Something that is clearly none of her business.

"What?" Is all I can manage to say.

"I think we should continue the current romance. A quick deflection from Peeta could cause the audience to lose sympathy for both Katniss and Peeta." Says Plutarch.

I can hear Gale choke on the glass of water that he's raised to his lips. I am shocked that they feel the need to discuss this topic with us.

"Agreed. So, on-screen, Gale can simply be portrayed as a fellow rebel. Is that all right?" Says Coin.

I just stare and her, and I'm pretty sure she repeats herself. "For Gale. Will that be sufficient?"

"We can can always work her in as your cousin," Fulvia says to Gale.

"We are not cousins!" Gale replies harshly.

"Right, but we should probably keep that up for appearances' sake on camera, and Peeta will continue to be presented as her lover." Plutarch says. "Off camera, I don't care what goes on. Anything else?"

I am so thrown off from by this conversation. I watch Gale get up without being excused and exit the room, slamming the doom behind him. The fact that Coin was that focused on the romance is chilling because it only reminds me on the Capitol.

"Our plan is to launch an Airtime Assault." Explains Plutarch, pulling me from my thoughts. "To make a series of what we call propos featuring you, and then broadcasting them to the entire population of Panem."

"How? The Capitol controls everything that is broadcast out to the citizens?" I question.

"But we have Beetee. About ten years ago, he essentially redesigned the underground network that transmits all the programming. He thinks there's a reasonable chance it can be done. Of course, we'll need something to air. So, Peeta, the studio awaits your presence."

Fulvia gives us a wave and Plutarch and I follow her out and down the hall.

The three of us board an elevator and begin to descend at least thirty plus levels down into the depths of the earth. When the metal doors swing open, there are multiple guards standing about the space and I instantly feel uneasy.

"Good morning, we were just looking for-" Plutarch begins.

"You have the wrong floor." The guard interrupts in a rather harsh tone.

"Really?" Plutarch glances as his notes. "I've got Three-Nine-Oh-Eight written right here. I wonder if you could just call up to-"

"I'm afraid I have to ask you to leave now. Assignment discrepancies can be addressed at the Head Office." The guard replies, pointing us back to the elevator.

The compartment of 3908 is only steps away from us and my mind instantly begins to wonder what is behind these doors that they are so desperately trying to keep from us.

Suddenly from behind the doors of 3908 comes a faint noise. It is only a tiny whimper, but my eyes instantly shift to the door. The guard reaches out to Plutarch, placing his hand onto his shoulder to lead him to the elevator doors and turning his back to me. This is my chance.

I sprint around the guard as fast as I can and burst through the free swinging door marked 3908 and find her. Clothes ripped apart, beaten, and restrained to the wall.

Portia.

* * *

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	5. Chapter 4

The sickening aroma of unclean human flesh, urine, and infection rushes through the air. The figure before me is almost unrecognizable. Her body looks much thinner and her skin hangs loosely from her bones. My stylist, Portia, who is usually so overly put together, now looks nothing like herself.

At the sight of me, Portia pushes her body back up against the wall almost as if anticipating that I will attack her. That simple retaliation is enough to show me how hurt she has been. The guards begin ordering me out, but I tune out their voices from my mind. Instead, I gently walk myself over to Portia and put my hand upon her icy cheek. I softly stroke it with my thumb to show her how I could never hurt her like this.

"Portia, what happened to you?" I ask, attempting to remain calm. "What are you doing here?"

"They took me from the Capitol." She replies hoarsely.

Plutarch enters from behind us. "What on earth in going on?"

"Who captured you?" I ask her.

"Some people." She replies vaguely. "The night you broke out of the arena."

"We thought it might be comforting for you to have your regular stylist." Plutarch says behind me.

"Comforting?" I shout at him. "How is this in any way comforting for me to see my stylist being treated like this! Why is she being treated like a criminal?"

"I honestly don't know." I'm not sure what it is, but there is something in Plutarch's voice that makes me believe him. He turns to the guard.

"I was only told she was being confined. Why is she being punished?"

"For stealing," replies the guard. "There was an altercation with some carrots."

Portia's hands grip onto mine. "No one would tell me anything, and I was just so hungry. I only took one small carrot." She explains weakly.

"It's alright, Portia. You did nothing wrong. I am going to make sure you get out of here!" I explain to her, tightening my grip on her shackled hands.

"This seems extreme," says Plutarch.

"You had no right to do this!" I reply, hollering at the guard.

Portia brings her hands to her face and I watch the shackles slide down her wrists, revealing fresh sores beneath them.

"I'm bringing you to the hospital." I assure her and she nods.

"Unchain her." I address the guard.

"I have not been authorized to follow through with that request." The guard replies.

"It was not a request, it was an order! Unchain her- now!" I retaliate.

This takes him aback and I can tell that citizens do not normally address him in such a manner. "I have no release orders. And you have no authority-"

"Do it on my authority," says Plutarch. "We came to collect her anyways. She is needed in special defence and I will take full responsibility."

The guard exits for a moment to make a call. When he returns, he has a ring of keys in his hand. I have to help Portia stand because she has been forced into tight body positions for so long that her legs are extremely stiff. When we exit the room, I notice the metal drain on the floor and concentrate on holding down my lunch when I imagine what a drain could possibly have been used for in here.

* * *

When we arrive in the hospital, I find Katniss' mother who is one of the few people I can trust to take care of Portia. She has been treating the ill of District 12 for years. I remember once when I was younger, probably only sevens years old or so, my oldest brother became sick with the chicken pox. My father took him to Mrs. Everdeen for healing. I remember begging him to let me tag along, but he was worried that any association with my brother would get my sick as well. At one point I tried to pretend to be ill in order for him to take me to the Everdeen home so I could get a glimpse of the healers eldest daughter; how love struck I was at such a young age. However Mrs. Everdeen has now been working as a nurse in the hospital ever since arriving in 13. Much like Prim, she channels her emotions into her work in order to keep herself from shutting down again.

"I'll take care of her, Peeta. You are not to worry." She informs me, giving me a small smile.

I hug her quickly. "Thank you." I do not think she even realizes how much this means to me.

"Of course."

I walk out of the hospital and my brain begins to spin. I understand exactly what Coin was doing when she captured Portia. She is trying to use her as a warning to me. That even though it was her who managed to pull me out of that arena, she will always be the one in control; the one who holds all the power.

After the days events, Plutarch releases me from Rebel duties for today. I am informed shortly after by Prim that Portia will be fine and has no lasting damages. Plutarch plans to get her working as early as tomorrow.

"Peeta, did you hear about the assembly?" Prim asks before I walk off to my compartment, hoping for some rest.

"No, I haven't? What's it about?" I ask. I have spent the majority of my day in Command and then with Portia. I have not been following my schedule at all.

"We're not sure, but some people are saying Coin has an announcement to make." She explains.

I nod my head and smile. I know this will be Coin's announcement of the conditions I created in order to become the face and mouth piece of this rebellion.

"I have a feeling I know what this will be about." I reply and Prim nods.

"Do you want to walk down with me, Prim?" I ask her, extending out my arm.

"I would," she begins, "but I have to help bring the patients down to the hall."

"I'll help you."

Prim leads me into the corridors and I find it interesting, yet promising, how even the people sick or injured in the hospital are encouraged to attend this assembly. The more witnesses to Coin's words the better. All of Thirteen should be aware of what I am about to do and the conditions I will lay forward.

When we arrive to the hospital I offer to take Finnick down because I had promised him I would return anyways to inform him about Annie. He is seated in a wheelchair when I find him with his rope not in his fingers, but on his lap.

"I told you I'd come back." I joke with him as I push the chair down the hall following Prim and Mrs. Everdeen as they help other patients as well.

"When are they rescuing them?" He asks me without hesitation.

"Soon." I tell him, even though I am not quite sure how soon, _soon_ really is.

"Why not now?" He asks again.

I breath in a deep sigh, honestly wondering the same thing. "They think it is too risky to go right now."

"Peeta…" Finnick begins, "I don't trust her."

I know immediately who Finnick is referring to. I am understanding exactly what he means because those were my exact thoughts when I first met Coin. It does not make sense to me why Katniss was not rescued. Myself, Beetee, and then Finnick managed to be saved, but not Katniss- the person who should have became the face of the rebellion. I feel like Snow got a hold of her a little too easily. Coin tries to say how she wishes Katniss was saved, but I have a hard time believing that.

"I know...I don't either."

Finnick and I do not say anything more.

When we enter the assembly room, it is packed with people. I stand with the hospital patients and workers. Coin begins to make her way up to the stage, but stops in front of me before continuing.

"Do you want to be up here with me for the announcement?" She asks me.

I shake my head. "No, I assumed you would be able to handle it by yourself. You are the president after all."

She stands there for a moment and narrows her eyes at me. I refuse to let my eyes leave hers, not letting her win even this small battle. And eventually, she turns away and continues to the stage. I realize that I almost desire making her regret pulling me from the arena instead of Katniss.

It does not take long for Coin to call upon the audience's attention and explain to them that I have agreed to become the face of this rebellion, especially while Katniss and the Capitol are calling for a cease fire. She tells them how I have requested pardon for the remaining victors in the Capitol. This causes a bit of uproar, mostly from the District 13 citizens and not so much from Twelve. I take in the hostile looks as they come my way with nothing but strength. I will not budge on this request and there is nothing these people can do to change that. No amount of intense stares or harsh words will make me regret it.

However, in typical Coin fashion she continues.

"But in return, soldier Mellark has promised to commit himself to the cause. It follows that any deviance from his mission, either by motive or deed, will be viewed as a break to this agreement. The immunity would be terminated and the fate of the four victors determined by the laws of District 13."

In other words, if I stray away from her plans, Katniss will be dead.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I hope you are enjoying this story! I know some of these chapters have been short but I promise you, as we get into the heart of Mockingjay they becoming much longer :) Make sure to follow me on twitter **_ TributeGirlEm_ **for updates and sneak peeks and also on my **_ TributeGirlEmma_** where you can ask me any questions you have about this story. I want to thank all of the amazing people who have followed and favourited this story! It really means a lot to me. Please take time to leave me a review because your comments are my greatest motivation and I love hearing your thoughts! Thanks again for reading and I will see you in a week or so XOX**


	6. Chapter 5

I lie in a warm bath filled with soap, letting the suds wash away all of my worries. However, I am kidding myself because I do not think there is anything powerful enough to make me stop thinking or worrying about Katniss.

I hear a knock at the door. "Peeta, can I come in?"

It is Portia, who is already up and out of the hospital, ready to make me over for my first propo shoot.

"Yes." I reply.

She enters the room and gives me a small smile. She is still frail, but her face has life back into it again. Her skin no longer sags on her bones and her eyes, no longer fearful. I sit myself up in the tub as Portia hands me a fresh white robe. I stand up and wrap it around myself, following her to the chair where I will be made over.

The mood in the room is stiff and I can tell Portia is not sure if she should say anything. It hurts me to know just how timid and held back she is now because of this. She once was so bubbly and energetic. We always had free flowing conversations and she never held much back from me. We trusted each other.

"How are you feeling Portia?" I ask.

"Better...thanks to you." She says gently.

"Well, you have done plenty for me over this past year; you don't need to thank me for anything."

She runs a brush through my hair. "Peeta, I'm just fortunate enough to be here with you still."

I nod my head, listening to the sudden emotion in her voice, when suddenly, something dawns on me.

"Portia, is Cinna in the Capitol with Katniss?" I ask, hoping that perhaps she will have someone she trusts still by her side. I know that they have had such a strong and comfortable relationship from day one, so having him by her side could possibly be her saving grace. However, Portia is only silent.

"Is he?" I ask again.

"Peeta, she didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

Silence again.

"What happened to Cinna?" I almost shout, turning to her; searching her face for an answer.

"Peeta...Cinna died right before Katniss went into the arena. They beat him in front of her when she entered the tube."

Her words crash into me like punch to the gut. I can not even begin to fathom how she was capable of watching someone she cared for so greatly, killed right in front of her, and then to have to put on a brave face while entering the arena. I have always known how strong Katniss was, but right now, I understand it even more.

". . .Katniss never told me that." I reply, looking down at my hands folded into my lap.

"She would have, Peeta, because she cares for you. . .the arena was just not the place for that."

Hearing Portia tells me about Cinna and then about Katniss caring for me is just too overwhelming. I lift my hands to my eyes and cry. The tears flow from my eyes and I begin to taste the salt on my tongue. I feel Portia's arms protectively wrap around me and I suddenly feel like a small child again.

"I miss her, Portia. I don't deserve to be here right now." I choke out through my sobs.

Her hands run up and down my back, attempting to soothe me.

"But you do, Peeta, because no one will fight for her harder then you. You are her best chance of returning." She tells me in hushed tones.

I can only nod my head because in this moment, it seems like all of my abilities to use words have left me.

Portia helps calm me down and then begins my prep once I inform her that I am ready. I don't like breaking down in-front of her like this, so I pull myself together.

She makes my hair smooth and shiny again. She does not paint my face, but instead she creates a natural sort of glow. She then readies my black rebel outfit for me to change into after lunch.

When we walk into the dining hall, the majority of the citizens stare. They are not used to seeing anyone in Capitol attire within these walls. Although Portia is actually rather tame in comparison to the majority of the Capitol's residence, it is still considered completely outrageous here. Today, she is sporting her long yellow blonde hair with small strips of green layered in it. Her makeup is simple, besides some red lipstick and electric blue eyeliner. It is a sharp contrast to the gray outfit that even she is forced to wear.

We grab our trays and take a seat with some other citizens of District 12 including Gale, his family, and Prim. I sit myself next to Prim and across from Posy; Portia on my other side. Everyone greets us with smiles, but I can tell they feel rather uncomfortable.

It is five year old Posy who finally breaks the silence.

"Your hair is green? Is it sick?" She asks innocently. She reaches across the table and touches Portia's green locks.

"It's a trendy fashion thing, Posy. Kind of like wearing lipstick or nail polish." I inform her.

Posy's face turns into one of deep thought before she speaks again. "I think you'd be pretty in any colour." She says, taking a large bite of her roll.

"Thank you." Portia replies.

It is the first real smile I have seen from her since I have been here and I owe it all to this young child. It amazes me how someone so young and blunt was able to find the right words to say when no one else seemed to be able to.

When lunch is over, Gale and I rise at the same time to put our trays away. We end up walking side by side as I place my tray on the edge.

"Peeta, why do you care so much about your stylist?"

I am immediately taken aback. I look up at his face to see if he is joking, but instead he is frowning.

"Well, why shouldn't I?"

"I don't know maybe because they have spent the last year prettying you and Katniss up for slaughter?"

My mouth hangs open. "You know, Katniss' stylist was probably the only reason she kept sane during prep for the first games. I wish I could stand here and tell you that I was able to do that for her, but I couldn't. Cinna did and he died because he was protecting her. It is a lot more complicated than you think." I explain in as stern of voice as I can muster. I surprise myself by how offended I am at his words. Sure, they are from the Capitol, and sure, most of the citizens there seem brainless. Yet, Gale does not know Cinna or Portia, and he will never understand our relationship and connection with them.

"It is not some secret in the Capitol, what is going on, but they just accept it anyways." He bounces back.

"They do what they can Gale. Both Katniss and my stylist deserve some of the credit for our survival."

"You're actually defending them."

"Yes, I actually am." I reply, almost slamming my silverware into one of the white bins.

I storm of away from him, motioning for Portia to join me. Gale and I are both very opinionated people who have beliefs that we hold faithfully to, and every so often, those beliefs clash, and today was one of those days. I remove myself from the situation before something unnecessary is said or done.

My avoidance of Gale does not last very long, however, because we are both called down to the special weaponries room to see Beetee. We will be given a few weapons that will attempt to catch the eyes of the audience when we film our propo.

"Aw, Gale, Peeta: it is great to see you both." Beetee exclaims as he wheels himself over to us as we enter the weapons area. "I think you are going to be very pleased with what we have created."

He leads us down a narrow hall where we enter several security checks and identification screening. Then we are finally allowed to enter into the official armory. The area is completely different then anything I could have imagined. There are multiple rows loaded with fire arms, explosives, tanks, launchers, even aircraft's. There is also a large wall filled with different bows and arrows. They remind me of Katniss.

However, these are not just your average bow and arrow sets. They are much more deadly than that. Some are equipped with grenade launchers, scopes, and every gadget you could imagine, many I do not even recognize.

"Gale, maybe you'd like to try out a few of these," says Beetee.

"Seriously?" Gale asks.

"You'll be issued a gun for battle of course, but if you are going to be in some of the propos, this might be a little showier. I thought you might like to find one that suits you."

Gale walks towards the wall of weapons and reaches for the deadliest looking bow on the wall. He hoists it onto his shoulder and begins to peer into the scope.

"Doesn't seem very fair to any animals." I say with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't be using it on animals, would I?" He answers.

_I guess not._

I don't bother telling him about the aftermath of taking another person's life and how it will never truly leave you.

"Peeta, I was not sure what type of weapon we should use for you, so I think it would be best if we just experiment with multiple different types."

Beetee starts with a simple sword, but it makes me anxious just holding it in my hands. It reminds me to much of Cato; the boy from my first games, and his gruesome end. How I was the one to push him off of the ledge to his death. The sounds of his cries as the life was sucked out of his body. A memory I wish I could forget.

We try spears, clubs, even bow and arrows; but we settle on an unloaded rifle instead. Guns have never been allowed in the arenas, so I do not have any violent memories with them. I still feel uncomfortable holding it though. Beetee shows me the proper way to position it over my shoulder with a strap when it is not in use.

When we return back to Portia for the propo filming, I get into my back rebel outfit and do some last minute touch ups, including placing a fake bloody bandage across my forehead to make it look like I have just come out of a war zone.

"Alright Peeta, the task for this propo is very simple." Begins Cressida, who is the media relations person for 13. "You are just going to stand in the middle and read the line off of the teleprompter."

I am brought onto the small set as the fake smoke machine comes on. I hear Plutarch yell out "Action!"

I swing my rifle over my shoulder and with as much confidence and anger as I can gather, I read my single line.

"People of Panem, we fight, we dare, we end our hunger for justice!"

I take in a large breath and the smoke lingers around my face.

"Cut!" Cressida calls out.

"That was very well done, Peeta." Plutarch adds patting me on the back.

I nod my head. I was really expecting them to inform me of how awful it sounded, because to me, it sounded completely forced. I sounded nothing like myself and in my opinion, completely unbelievable and non-motivating.

"That was well done," Coin says as she enters the set room door.

"Are you kidding me! The boys got a lot more in him than that!" Says Haymitch as he steps into the room right behind her.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I really hope you are enjoying! Be sure to leave me a review of your thoughts and hopes for future chapters! You can follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm or ask me questions about the story on my TributeGirlEmma . Thank you again for reading and I will see you next week! XO**


	7. Chapter 6

To be honest, I was rather surprised to hear Haymitch speaking yesterday. I guess I just assumed that he was far off from reality due to severe withdraw. However, I know that despite the encouragement from the others, he is the only one that is actually accurate about my performance yesterday. I am well aware that I have the capability to use my words to move people and to perhaps even add my own flames to this rebellion. My ability to use words is a gift that has helped both Katniss and I throughout everything. But even I know that when I am scripted, it is not nearly as genuine as it could be.

I think back to the Victory Tour in District 11 when I read off a speech to Rue. That speech came from feeling and emotion that was swelling up inside of me. It was driven by passion, sorrow, and anger. That speech moved people. Yet, after that, Effie made sure I stuck to her cards because the spark of rebellion in District 11 was what we were trying to avoid. When I am scripted, I lose that spark. However, now we are not in District 11 trying to prevent a rebellion; we are the rebels of District 13 attempting to rally the nation against its greatest enemy.

It took most of the morning for Haymitch to convince the others of this. I do not see what was so complicated for them to understand. It all seemed rather obvious to me. How can they expect these speeches to be genuine when they are not even my own beliefs and ideas?

I try to avoid looking Haymitch in the eyes. This is the first time we have been together since arriving here, and I am still not sure how I feel about him. He looks ill. He has clearly lost weight and his skin appears to have a light yellow tone to it. I have to force myself not to feel so concerned for someone I am not even sure I trust.

Haymitch plays back the footage shot. I appear on the screen looking strong and powerful with that useless gun draped over my shoulder. I speak clearly and with purpose, but anyone who has seen me speak before can tell how awful it is in comparison.

"Alright," Haymitch begins after turning the propo off, "I think we can all agree that this little speech here may be able to intrigue a few people in multiple undecided districts. However, will it be able to win us the war? Absolutely not!"

Everyone around the table glances at each other; some nod their heads. Plutarch begins writing things down on a clipboard in front of him.

"Now, I want you to think of a time where Peeta Mellark's words have moved you."

A woman from the Seam named Levey speaks up first. "When he donated a month of his winnings to the District 11 families. . . and gave that speech about the young girl."

I give her a small smile; the exact situation I was thinking of before this.

"How about when he volunteered to take your place at the reaping?" Gale chimes in.

Clearly, our past argument has been forgotten and I instantly feel thankful for that because I hate seeing Gale as an enemy. I have enough enemies to deal with so I would much prefer to see him as an ally any day.

"Wonderful example; volunteers for me to save Katniss." Haymitch adds on the white board.

"For me, it was when he gave Katniss that locket on the beach." Portia says, her eyes becoming glossy.

I smile at her as well , and also at the memory, wishing instantly to be able to hold Katniss like that again. I also begin hoping that she still has that necklace with her; a reminder of her family to hang on to. But a part of me knows that perhaps that is rather wishful.

"How about when he held onto that morphling woman before she died, making sure she wasn't left alone?" Boggs, Coin's assistant, chimes in.

"Very nice!" Haymitch exclaims.

The list continued until Haymitch has filled up the large whiteboard with everyone's comments.

"So, clearly, there is one thing all of these moments have in common." Haymitch says.

"They were unscripted." Explains Beetee.

"Exactly, you pulled this boy out of that arena because of his capability to move nations with his words, so why the hell would you feed him those lines of garbage? You left Katniss behind because of the soul reason of this boy's mouth; don't waste that." Haymitch states bluntly.

Everyone in the room goes silent. All they can do is stare up at the white board filled with all of their ideas.

"Unfortunately, his opportunities for this are rather limited in 13." Plutarch finally says.

"Unless you are planning to throw him into some kind of actual combat." Fluvius adds with a chuckle.

"That's exactly what I am planning on doing. Get him out there and keep the cameras rolling; let him interact with the people."

Coin backfires instantly. "There is no guarantee of his safety. He will be the target of-"

"I'm going." I finally chime in. I am so tired of people trying to decide these things for me. "I am no help to the rebels here."

"What if you're killed?" Coin says.

"Well, then you better rescue Katniss, because someone has to be the face of this rebellion, and for some reason, you chose me. So now it's only fair that I am put to use"

"Alright." Coin says. "Find the least dangerous area and hopefully we can get something out of him." She walks around Command, studying the maps. "Take him to eight this afternoon; they had a bombing already this morning, so they should be pretty quiet after that. I want him armed with a squad and camera crew on the ground. Haymitch will be airborne and in contact with Peeta."

And with that, Coin ends the meeting. Haymitch asks if he can have a word with me privately.

"We're going to have to work together again, so you may as well just go out and say it." He states.

I think of slapping him straight in the face here, but ultimately, decide against it. Words have clearly always been my best weapon anyways.

"We made a deal and you vowed that you would save her over me. I can't believe you didn't fight harder to rescue her."

"I know." Is his reply.

"Your turn." I tell him.

"I can't believe you let her out of your sight on that night." He says flatly.

There is a pain inside my chest because I know what he is saying is completely and utterly true. I should have never let her leave me and for that, I do take some blame.

"I know." I reply. "I relive that moment over and over again in my head every night."

We are silent for a long time. I study his dark grey eyes that seem even more worn these days.

"She's not dead yet, Peeta."

I only nod my head, because the word '_yet'_ terrifies me.

* * *

Eventually, I am instructed to go down to weaponry to see Beetee. Here, I am suited with special armour for combat. I am given a helmet that fits tightly over my head and a vest to slip over my chest. It contains extra protection over my heart and other vital organs. Beetee informs me of how Portia and Cinna had designed everything. Finally, he hands me a rifle similar to the one I had for the propo.

"The safety is currently on. If you need it use the scope, it is relatively easy to shoot."

He makes me take a few practice shots and surprisingly, I hit my target after a few practices. However, I know that if there was a living, breathing human in front of me, pulling the trigger would be much different.

Boggs is the one to escort me down to the airborne division. The elevator arrives and suddenly Finnick appears in a state of panic.

"Peeta, they won't let me go! I told them I'm fine, but they won't even let me ride in the hovercraft!"

I look at Finnick for a moment. His legs are bare and he stands in only a hospital gown; his hair tangled and eyes widened. Even I have a hard time agreeing that he should be taken. So instead, I come up with a plan.

"Oh, Finnick, I totally forgot! I was supposed to inform you to go to special weaponry because Beetee has a special trident made specifically for you."

The word trident immediately intrigues him.

"Really? What does it do?"

"I don't know, but if it is anything like the other weapons down there, it is sure to be amazing," I say. "You'll have to do some training with it of course."

"Right, of course. I'd better get down there!" He says.

"Finnick?" I say. "Perhaps some pants would help…"

He looks down at his bare legs, as if noticing his outfit for the first time. Then, he whips off his hospital gown, leaving him in just his underwear.

"You know, many people find this attractive." He states, striking an extremely provocative pose.

However, I cannot help but laugh because it reminds me of the Finnick I'd first met; when he offered Katniss some sugar cubes and I became worried there would be another man looking for the attention of the woman I loved. How wrong I was back then.

Boggs and I just laugh when the elevator doors close, leaving Finnick behind. I begin to realize that perhaps Boggs is someone I can trust. However, he just seems too close and in tune with Coin, and she is one who definitely can not be trusted.

The elevator begins to move in sideways motions. "It is taking us to the Hanger." Boggs explains.

District 13 is clearly much larger in scale than I originally had believed. There are still so many areas that I have not been authorized to see yet.

When the doors open again, my mouth drops open slightly. There are rows upon rows of different hovercrafts.

"How did 13 get all these?" I question, examining the fleet.

"Some we manufactured ourselves. Some were part of the Capitol's air forces. They have been updated, of course." Boggs says.

In my mind, all I can think of is how they had all of these large pieces of equipment, but sat back and let the rest of us suffer for seventy-five years.

"Over here, soldier Mellark." He indicates, pulling me away from my thoughts and onto a smaller hovercraft.

When I climb the stairs, a full camera crew is waiting for me. Everyone else, including Haymitch, is dressed in the matching 13 military jump suits.

Fulivia scurries over to Boggs and I as we go to take our seats.

"Some of us think Gale should be featured in one of the next propos; he has a very camera ready face." Fulvia states with a blush.

Boggs and I only nod.

"I'm surprised Katniss hasn't snagged him up for herself yet." She adds with a chuckle.

I force myself to take a breath and remain seated. I try to think of some sort of comeback when Boggs chimes in: "Well, don't expect us to be to impressed. We just saw Finnick Odair in his underwear."

I decide right then in that moment that I can go ahead and trust Boggs.

I take my seat by the window next to Haymitch with Gale and Boggs seated across from us. The hovercraft slowly rises in some sort of elevator-like contraption until we are outside and surrounded by green pine trees. I think of how Katniss would have loved this view of the forest right now.

The next thing I know, we've taken off and I am trapped within the clouds as the hovercraft soars through the air. I take a moment to examine the colours and patterns around me. Clouds are a hard thing to perfect as a painter and I am rarely ever this close to them. I used to think clouds were just white, but after multiple failed attempts I realized how wrong I was. Hints of gray, blue, and even lilac come together to create every shape of a cloud. They are each so different, yet so magnificent at the same time.

Once we have reached our cruising altitude above the cloud line, Plutarch begins explaining the state of the war and what I could possibly face down in District 8.

Apparently, every district is at war with the Capitol, expect 2, which is really no surprise there; they have always had the favoured relationship. They receive more food than the rest of us and have better living conditions; a big reason why there tributes are always so strong.

"Our goal is to first take over each District, ending with two. Once they are all on board, we will invade the Capitol. But we will cross that bridge when we get to it."

"So, who will be in charge of the government if we win?" Gale asks.

"Everyone." Plutarch tells him. "We're going to form a republic where the people of each district and the Capitol can elect their own representatives to be their voice. It's worked before."

"In books." Haymitch mutters.

"In history books!" says Plutarch. "And if our ancestors could do it, than we can too."

"And if we lose?" I add this time.

Plutarch looks out into the clouds and an interesting grin appears across his face. "Then, I would expect next year's Hunger Games to be quite unforgettable. Which reminds me," he takes a tube from his vest and shakes it until two deep violet pills fall into his hands, "we named them in both you and Katniss' honour." Plutarch begins speaking directly to me. "The rebels can't afford for any of us to be captured now. But I promise, it will be completely painless."

I take hold of the tiny pill, unsure of where to place it. Clearly I can not go around with it in my hand. Plutarch taps a spot on my shoulder at the front of my left sleeve. I look and find a small pocket that will store and hide the pill. Even if I was put into a situation where my hands were tied I could still easily bite it free.

Cinna and Portia have thought of everything.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! I hope you are getting a feel for this story and are understanding that I am trying to keep it pretty close to the Mockingjay plot. Thank you to all the lovely people who have been favouriting, following, and reviewing! Your comments mean so much to me! Make sure to follow me on twitter for updates and sneak peeks TributeGirlEm and on my where you can ask me any questions you have about this story TributeGirlEmma .Thank you again for reading ad I will see you all next week! XO**

**ALSO: For my Guarding Daisies Readers- There will most likely be a new one-shot going up within the next few days so stay tuned! **


	8. Chapter 7

When the hovercraft lands in District 8, myself and my crew prepare to make a quick exit. The group consists of Boggs, Gale, and two other soldiers. There is also my TV crew that is made up of Cressida, who has green vines tattooed onto her shaved head, and her assistant Messalla: a slim man with several sets of piercings. There are also two camera men dressed in shell-like equipment, ready to film my every move.

We follow Boggs as he speeds down grey side-streets. When we emerge onto main street, it is like entering a world I have never seen before; something I wish I didn't have to see. There are people being lifted onto makeshift stretchers, some even being carried by hand to the large warehouse building with the letter H plastered on the front of it. Many are missing limbs or are bleeding intensely. The cries they make are enough to make me sick. Everyone from children to the elderly are injured and they are being wheeled into the hospital by the dozen.

I realize that this is exactly the place they plan on filming me.

A younger woman with tired, dark brown eyes strides over to us; sweat is beating down her temples. There is a bandage around her throat that is soaked in red blood. She carries an automatic weapon on her back. With one jerk of her thumb, she orders medical assistance into the warehouse and they quickly comply.

"This is Commander Paylor of Eight," says Boggs.

I instantly feel out of place standing in my brand new outfit, with not even a scratch on my body. I realize I must look pathetic to all of these people.

"Solider Mellark," she says shaking my hand. "You're alive then. We weren't sure."

"I'm still breathing." I reply, trying to comprehend the interesting tone hidden in her voice.

"Been in recovery," Boggs begins, "but he insisted on coming to see your wounded."

"Well, we have plenty of those." Paylor replies.

"You think this is a good idea?" Gale asks, frowning at the hospital. "Assembling your wounded like this?"

"I think it's slightly better than leaving them to die," says Paylor.

"That's not what I meant." Gale replies, defending himself.

"Well, this is currently my only option. But if you come up with a third and get Coin to back it, I'm all ears." She walks forward and waves us to the door.

I am clearly not prepared for what is awaiting me inside of this makeshift hospital. Rows upon rows of dying bodies lie on small wooden beds. Behind another curtain, I see more rows of dead corpses and force my eyes away in fear that I may just break down.

"We have a mass grave started. I just haven't got the manpower to move them yet." Paylor explains, referring to the bodies.

As we step further into the hospital, all of my senses take a beating. I try to stop myself from gagging, but that seems to be an extremely hard task. The smell of dead flesh, vomit, and soiled sheets fill my nose. Combined with the heat of the building, the smell alone is enough to knock me unconscious. Some people are lying on the ground, swatting away the flies simply because there is just no room for all of these people. Too many have been hurt. I hear the cries of pain from the injured and the panicked sobs of loved ones. I think back to the Quarter Quell when my heart stopped beating from the forcefield shock. After Finnick's success in reviving me, I woke up to a sobbing Katniss above. This is what I see now, but times one hundred.

I try to remember to breathe through my mouth and force my legs to step onward. Firstly, however, I lift my gun off of my shoulder and hand it to Boggs. These people do not need to see me sporting a fancy weapon. That is not what I am to them. Violence has been my nature, I handle my greatest battles with words.

"Peeta?" A voice croaks out to my left. "Peeta?" A hand extends for me out of the fog. I cling back to it looking for the human connected to the rough flesh. It is a young woman with an injured leg. There are flies buzzing around her bandages which are soaked with blood. In her face, I see pain; but I notice that there is something else there too. Hope.

"Is it really you?"

"Yes, it is me. I'm glad to see you." I tell the woman as if I have known her for an extended period of time.

Joy radiates from her face and for a moment, the suffering fades.

"You're alive! We didn't know. People said you were, but we didn't know!" She exclaims.

I give her a genuine smile. "Yes, well, I got pretty banged up as well; both physically and mentally if I'm being honest. But I got better over time, as will you." I brush the wet hair away from her face and give her hand a reassuring squeeze.

"I've got to tell my brother!" The woman attempts to sit up and calls to someone a few beds down. "Eddy! Eddy! He's here! It's Peeta Mellark."

I watch as a little boy, perhaps only eleven years old, turn to us. Bandages cover half of his face. I walk over to him and place my hand onto his cheek. It is burning with a fever. He can't speak, but his eyes are trained on me.

"Hi Eddy," I begin, "I'm glad I got to meet you today. I'm sorry that this has happened to you. . .but I'll let you in on a secret: I'm going to make sure that horrible things like this don't happen anymore. We are going to change things so that kids like you can be safe."

He doesn't reply, but a single tear falls down from his eye. I smile at him again and take his hand into mine, placing a small kiss onto the top on his head.

I begin to hear my name flowing through the crowds of people. I realize that it will become impossible to speak to everyone so directly, but I make an effort to walk to every hospital bed. I grasp the hands that are extended to me and speak out healing words of encouragement. I greet people, let them know that they are not alone. My words and my presence alone seem to encourage people.

Eager hands grab my arms or feel my hair. One elderly lady with a missing leg takes my face between her hands and kisses me directly on the mouth. I am taken aback initially, but instead reach my hand to her cheek and thank her.

Many people are also eager to ask me about Katniss. Some see how her name alone causes me great emotion, so they attempt to assure me that she is alright. And somehow, their words seem to speak to me when others could not. Perhaps it is the fact that even though they are so hurt themselves, they still manage to see if I am alright. These people are selfless and I know now that I must fight for them…and for Katniss. We are all allies. One weeping woman tells me how sorry she is for the miscarriage we experienced and I want to come clean to her and tell her it was just a lie, but that would be telling her that Katniss is a liar, which would definitely not help her image.

I realize here how many people truly care for my life. These people are knocking on death's door, but are still more concerned with my well-being than their own. I figure it is because this is the first sign of rebellion; the first sign of hope that these people have seen, so they cling to that.

As I reach the back of the hospital, I walk up on a large table and wave a final goodbye to these people. However, I know they deserve more than a simple wave. They deserve my words, and that is exactly what they will get.

"People of District 8, I want you all to know that no matter where I am, no matter where Katniss is, that we are with you! Together we will rise and defeat the true enemy at hand. No longer will they pin us against each other; we will rally as one. My heart goes out to each and every one of you. You do not deserve what has happened here. You deserve to be free; your children deserve to be free. Out of suffering always emerges the strongest of souls."

I step down from the table and for the first time since arriving, I remember that I am being filmed. The eyes of my crew are all on me, and they just stare.

Gale is the first to speak. "You did great."

I'm not really sure what great is, all I know is that I just followed what my gut seemed to tell me to do.

"We got some great stuff in there." Adds Cressida.

"Is it like this everywhere?" I ask Boggs.

"Yes. Most are under attack. We're trying to get aid wherever we can, but it's not enough."

Suddenly, a buzz begins in my ear piece and I begin to hear Haymitch's voice for the first time since landing here.

"Get to the airship! Immediately!" He hollers.

"What's wrong?" Gale asks first.

"Incoming bombers." Boggs says and he lifts my helmet to cover more of my head. "Let's move!"

We take off running away from the warehouse, heading down the alley towards the hovercraft. However, despite the panic, I do not see any immediate threat. People around us carry on with whatever they were previously doing, until the sirens begin to blare. Within seconds, a low flying formation of Capitol airships appear and begin raining bombs down on the district. I am blown off my feet and land directly on my back. The wind is completely knocked out of me. I attempt to stand, but Boggs pushes my body back down and shields me with his own. I feel the ground vibrate as the bombs land.

"Peeta! We can't land during the bombing!" Haymitch's voice echoes into my ears. "But it is imperative that you are not spotted."

"They don't know I'm here?" I ask.

"We don't think so; it is presumed that this was a scheduled bombing."

Suddenly, Plutarch's voice sounds. "There is a blue warehouse three down from you. It has a bunker in the far north corner. Can you get there?"

"We'll do our best." Boggs replies.

I look around and see that the others are beginning to get back onto their feet. Gale is up with his bow and arrows already loaded; the other two soldiers with guns in hand.

"You have forty-five seconds until the next wave." Plutarch tells us.

My body is sore, but I keep moving. Boggs takes the lead and I follow close behind as he hands me my rifle back. Unlike my team, I strap it over my shoulder instead of removing its safety. My boots grip the ground wonderfully, allowing me to move quickly and efficiently. I spot the bunker up ahead, just as the next wave hits.

I launch myself against a grey building and shield my face between my hands and knees, my back facing upwards. Partly to protect myself, partly to keep me from being spotted.

"You alright?" Boggs asks as he crawls his way over to me.

"Yeah, they haven't seen me. They aren't even following us." I state.

"No, they have targeted something else." He adds, breathing heavily.

I do not even need to ask because I hear Gale's holler confirm my first instinct.

"The Hospital!" He yells. "They're going after the hospital!"

"Not your problem," says Plutarch firmly. "Get to the bunker."

"There is nothing in there but wounded; how could they ever be a threat?" I question.

Suddenly, I watch Gale dash away from the group and sprint closer to the hospital. He instructs the other two soldiers to follow him.

"Peeta, don't you even think about it!" Haymitch exclaims.

I pull the piece from the ear and begin to follow Gale and the others, sprinting as fast as my feet will take me. I catch up to them as they reach a building where the sound of machine guns explodes from above. Someone up there is firing back.

"Climb!" Gale orders and so I do, up the access ladder and onto the roof of the building. I hear the sound of his boots below me connect with someone's face and I guess that it belongs to Boggs, who is most likely trying to pull me out of this situation. I pull Gale up behind as I reach the top.

"Does Boggs know you're up here?" To our left I see Paylor standing behind one of the large guns.

"He knows, whether he is alright with it is another story though." I tell her and she only laughs.

"Have you been trained on these?" She questions, motioning to her gun.

"I have!" Gale says. "But I would rather use my own weapons." He holds out his bow and both him and Paylor get into position.

In these moments, I consider taking hold of a gun myself. I spot them. Heading towards the Hospital are three young children. They do not understand that if they continue, they will be running into their deaths. I dash over to the ladder on the other side of the building and begin climbing down. The others are too occupied with their weapons that I do not bother telling them. I try to keep myself tucked beside the building as I chase after the young children. As I get closer to them, I can see how a young, dark-haired female who looks maybe eleven years old is carrying a young toddler in her arms; a young girl. Beside her is a boy who is perhaps seven or so with tears in his eyes, trying to escape.

I grab onto the older girl's shoulder and she screams. In the distance, I can see the bombs beginning to drop.

"No, it's alright!" I tell her. "I'm here to help you. My name is Peeta."

Her face calms down for a moment and I can tell that she recognizes me.

"Follow me!" I holler, leading them down another alley away from the hospital. I notice how the older girl is struggling to carry the toddler in her small arms, so I reach out my hands and she instantly hands her to me.

"Hi sweetheart. Everything is going to be okay!" I tell this small child as I cover her head with my hand. All of these children look similar with their dark-brown hair and ice blue eyes.

We continue running until we arrive back at the building where Gale and Paylor are firing from. I bring them here simply because this building also has a bunker. I open the ground door and motion for the children to get inside.

The area inside is small and dusty; it clearly has not been in use for a long time. I turn on the small emergency light and examine the children closely for the first time.

The older girl is obviously frightened, but she hides it well. The boy is crying, so I pull him closer to me with the youngest girl laying on my lap.

"Where are your parents?" I ask, hoping to find out some information to help these children.

"We got separated from our father after our mother was killed." The girl tells me.

"When did this happen?"

"Yesterday." She states.

These children are too young and too innocent to have lost their mother like this. They have seen too much for their young eyes and they don't deserve that.

"I'm going to help you find your father; you're not to worry." I tell them.

"Why is this happening?" The boy asks through his tears.

_Because of my actions in the arena,_ is my initial thought, but I keep those words inside of my mouth.

"Because the Capitol is trying to defend itself." I explain. "We are fighting back for the first time to try to make things better."

"I'm scared." He adds.

"I'm not going anywhere." I assure him. "Why don't you tell me your names?" I attempt to change the subject.

I learn that the oldest girl's name is Laya, the boy Brac, and the youngest girl is Skylar. The bunker is tall enough for all three of them to stand in, but I am forced onto my knees or to crawl because the ceiling is too low. There are two small shelves against the back wall. I examine them and find a warm container of water, matches, and a can of black paint. I take the container of water and take a sip out of it first, making sure it is drinkable before giving it to the children; the ones who truly need it. I also give the matches to Laya because I'm sure she could find some use for them.

Suddenly, the sound of more bombs begin and we can hear the shrieks of pain coming from outside. Both Brac and Skylar are crying now.

"Have you guys ever painted before?" I ask, lifting up the old can of black paint and crawling over to them.

"No." Laya replies as she clutches her younger sister's hand.

"Well, then this is a perfect time to learn." I tell them, opening the can of paint and squatting down onto my knees.

The children are still very fearful of the sounds that are being produced from outside, so my goal is to distract them from the ongoing horrors. I dip my fingers into the cool, charcoal coloured paint and begin smearing it onto the cement wall in front of me. My fingers move together creating a picture that I was unsure of when I began. But everything here is so evil and destructive that these children deserve to see something peaceful. I re-dip my fingers into the paint and continue swirling the colour in front of me.

With only one colour and no tools, it is not the most elaborate piece I have ever created, but perhaps the most influential.

In front of me, I have created a silhouette of three small children in a grassy meadow. Around them are pine trees and a sky that is filled with sunshine and large puffy clouds. I imagine these children to be safe and without a worry of being killed by war.

"See the beauty one old can of paint can create!" I exclaim, turning to them. They all have their eyes trained onto my creation as if it is the most spectacular thing they have ever seen.

"Pretty!" Skylar squeals as she toddles her way over to me.

"Thank you, Skylar. Do you want to try?" I ask, placing her directly onto my lap.

She nods her head, so I dip my hand back into the paint and smear the colour all over her tiny hand until her pale skin is covered in the black colour. I watch her face brighten and turn into a smile as she comes into contact with the cool liquid. I grab the back of her hand and gently press it up against the wall, pressing her fingers against it slowly.

"Alright, now pull your hand away carefully and watch what you have made." I instruct.

She studies her hand and then ever so carefully begins pulling it away from the wall. When her tiny hand print is revealed, she begins to laugh; the sound is so energizing that it somehow gives me strength.

"You're an amazing artist, Skylar!" I tell her, poking her gently in the belly. She giggles again.

I repeat the same with all of the children until their tears turn into smiles and the outside noises are forgotten because their laughter is too loud. I had forgotten how powerful art can be for people. I learned this with the morphlings from the Quarter Quell and these three children are only reminding me of it again. Art is not simply about fancy painting and elegant designs; it is about the story and its abilities to enable us to become something we perhaps forgot we could be. We continue with the paint until every wall is covered with hand prints and children's creations.

Just as the can of paint becomes empty, I hear a voice calling in the distance.

"Laya! Where are you? Brac! Skylar!" It is a man's voice and he is clearly searching for them.

"Daddy!" Hollers Brac as he is immediately up on his feet.

Relief fills my body at the hope that perhaps these children's father is close. I open the bunker door and peer out into the distance. Above me, I can see Gale and the camera crew. I assume that they are now looking for me. I pull the children up from the bunker as the sound of the man's voice becomes louder. The children take off at the sight of a tall man with similar dark hair and ratted clothing. They launch themselves into his arms and I can't help but smile at the beauty in front of me. In a war zone, it is rare to find something this spectacular.

"Thank you." The man mouths these words to me as he hugs the children over his shoulder.

"Peeta!" Now I hear my name being called from above and realize that it is Gale's voice calling me. I walk away from the children knowing that for now they are as safe as the can be with someone who will take care of them. However, I also know that those three faces, are ones that I will never forget.

I climb the ladder back to the building Gale is on and for the first time see the horror that I have missed while in the bunker. What is left of the hospital is up in flames as people run from the area frantically. Everyone inside are near the hospital is dead from the fire bombs, it is clear that there will be no survivors.

"How could they do that? Why would they target people who are already dying?"

"To scare others off; prevent the wounded from seeking help," says Gale. "Those people you met, they were expendable. To Snow, anyway. If the Capitol wins, what will it do with a bunch of damaged slaves?"

I think of all those faces I saw, the hands I touched, everyone of them gone. I think of Eddy and his sister; how their lives were cut way too short, and all because of President Snow. I let out a loud scream because the thought of this man taking anymore lives, especially more children lives, is sickening.

"President Snow just aired the bombing live as a message to rebels." Cressida explains. "Is there anything you would like to say Peeta?"

I nod my head and the camera turns to me.

"I want everyone to know that I am alive and still fighting for this cause. I am currently here in District 8 where we have just witnessed the Capitol's firebombs obliterate a hospital filled with innocent and unarmed victims, many of them children. No one inside will survive. Citizens of Panem, if you believe the Captiol is promoting equality for us, then you are mistaken. They are the enemy and we shall no longer be pieces in their evil and twisted games. Rebellion is when you look society in the face and say, 'I understand who you want me to be, but I am going to show you who I actually am.' This is who we are and the fire inside us all is catching. President Snow, if we burn, you will burn with us."

My words hang in the air as I struggle to catch my breath.

"Cut!" Cressida yells, pulling me back to reality and giving me a nod of approval. "That's a wrap!"

* * *

**WOOO! I tried to pack a lot of action into this chapter so I really hope you enjoyed! I am anxious to hear your thoughts because I had to re write a lot of this chapter to make it more fitting for Peeta's character. Make sure to follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm for updates and sneak peeks! I will see you all next Saturday XO**


	9. Chapter 8

The next thing I know, Boggs is gripping my arm and I notice the swelling in his face that Gale's boot has left. He instructs me to run, so I decide that after multiple situations of disobedience, I should comply. Together, the crew sprints to the landing strip where the hovercraft is waiting for us. Everyone hops onboard and the door closes, concealing us from District 8.

Suddenly, Haymitch is at my side with his hands crossed in front of his chest. He grabs my vest roughly and pushes me down into one of the hovercraft seats.

"Your earpiece was given to you for a reason. I will give you exactly one more chance to wear it before I have you permanently fitted with one so that you can hear my voice twenty-four hours a day."

"I'll keep the piece in." I reply; the thought alone making me shudder.

"You better." He begins. "We always thought your were more compliant than Katniss, but right now, it doesn't seem so."

I just roll my eyes. He meant that as an insult, but to me, being compared to Katniss in this way was more of a compliment.

The hovercraft ride home is silent. Nobody feels like speaking. When we land in 13, I go straight to my compartment without even associating with anyone. For once, my body actually feels exhausted and ready for sleep. The moment my head hits the pillow, I am out.

* * *

"They want us in Command." Hollers a coarse, familiar voice jolting me from sleep.

I open my eyes slowly, rubbing my face. Haymitch now stands before me. "Go away." I murmur.

"We're wanted in Command. Coin's orders. So either you walk or I drag you there." He rebuttals.

I groan and make myself rise. I know Coin is most likely going to punish me for my risky performance yesterday. Yet I force myself up, not wanting to cower from her.

Haymitch and I walk to Command together and are greeted by our crew, along with Plutarch and an unhappy Coin. Instantly, I feel concerned. Surely she is unhappy about my performance yesterday and I only now begin to worry that I may have stripped Katniss of the little protection I was able to give her. So instead, I take a seat next to the two camera men from the crew.

"You know after everything we have been through yesterday, I have still yet to learn your names." I say as I settle into my seat.

"I'm Castor, and this is my brother Pollux," says the one with close bitten nails. They both have the same sandy hair, red beards, and blue eyes.

I stare a Pollux for a moment, wondering why he is not speaking for himself. But there is something about the position of his lips and the extra effort he seems to be taking to swallow. I realize then that Pollux must be an avox. The Capitol has cut out his tongue and he will never speak again. I wonder what he has done to make the Capitol do this to him. Yet, I no longer have to wonder about his motives to side with the rebels.

"It is a pleasure to meet you both." I reply, shaking their hands.

"Our Airtime Assault has officially launched. For any of you who missed yesterday's twenty-hundred broadcast of our first propo, or the seventeen reruns Beetee has managed to air since, we will begin by replaying it."

So they managed to use my footage after all…and use it seventeen times. I can't help but feel a little proud. Coin dims the lights and the television flashes on.

At first, the screen is dark until a small spark flickers in the middle. It grows, spreads, slightly eating away at the darkness until the entire screen is in a firey blaze. It is almost as if I can feel real heat coming from the screen. A quick image of Katniss' mockingjay pin emerges and the the bird comes to life and flies off of the screen. Suddenly there I am, in front of the real flames of District 8. There is the clip of me shouting my speech and then it cuts for the hospital collapsing in the background. Then the camera is back on me: _"Rebellion is when you look society in the face and say, 'I understand who you want me to be, but I am going to show you who I actually am.'"_ There is a clip of me pulling the children out of the bunker, which I did not even know was filmed until now. I see Gale shooting airplanes out of the sky with explosive arrows, then it is again back to me. "_This is who we are and the fire inside us all is catching."_ The Capitol seal is now on the screen and the flames engulf it melting it away. "President Snow, if we burn, you will burn with us." The screen goes black again, other then the white letters reading the words:

IF WE BURN, YOU BURN WITH US

Finally, those words catch fire too, and the screen fades out. There is a small moment of silence before the room bursts out into applause. I am rather quiet however, at the memory of those three children and the hope that they have made it through another day.

"Did it play all over Panem? Did they see it in the Capitol?" Gale asks.

"Not in the Capitol," says Plutarch. "We couldn't override their system, although Beetee's working on it. But in all the districts. We even got it in Two, which may be more valuable than the Capitol at this point in the game."

Everyone in the room claps again, accept for Fulvia. I realize that it must be hard for her seeing the success of Haymitch's idea after her studio idea failed.

"Now, I feel it is important to discuss the idea of sending Peeta into actual combat." Coin speaks up. "That was risky and I am not sure if something like this should be carried out again."

"It was a tough call," says Plutarch, scratching his temple, "but the general consensus was that we were not going to get anything from him if he was hidden away in a bunker the entire time."

"Peeta, are you alright with this?"

"Yes, I am completely fine with it. It felt good to be doing something for the cause for once."

"Well, let's just be a little more careful with his exposure- especially now that the Capitol knows what he can do." says Coin. "So, what else do you have planned?"

"Well, we have terrific footage of Peeta in the hospital, so we could do a whole other propo with that can focus on him interacting with the patients. We are also thinking about doing a highlight piece; showcasing some of his best moments. We can call that one 'Fire is Catching.'" Cressida says.

"I was also thinking we could to a piece titled, 'We Remember', Fulvia speaks up. "In each one, we could feature one of the dead tributes. Young Rue from 11 or Mags from 4. The idea being to target each district with something personal."

"A tribute to our tributes, as it were," says Plutarch.

"That is brilliant, Fulvia!" I say sincerely.

"Can you start producing them today?" Coin asks.

"Of course," replies Fulvia, clearly proud of her idea.

Coin closes the meeting and I am incredibly shocked that she did not scold me for my actions. Yet at the same time I am grateful, I seem to have enough things to deal with theses days.

So I decide to make my way up to the hospital to tell Finnick about these new ideas, especially since Fulvia has asked him to do the intro for the 'We Remember' pieces. I explain to him the ideas while the old propos play on the screen in his hospital room. I am happy to see how excited he is about being the intro to the 'We Remember' propo. Like myself, I know he feels good to be able to do something for a change.

"I think I have seen this burning hospital enough now." Finnick finally says, as the propo ends for the forth time tonight. I agree and hand him the remote control. Just as his hand goes to touch the power button, I cry, "Wait!"

The Capitol begins introducing some sort of special segment and something about it looks oddly familiar. It is Caeser Flickermen and I can already tell who his guest is going to be tonight.

Her physical transformation alone is enough to break me. The strong, healthy girl I saw a few days ago is at least ten pounds lighter. Her collar bones are protruding and her arms almost resemble twigs. She has a nervous tremor in her hands and her right eye twitches every few seconds. The paint they are trying to mask her face with is working, but I know her well enough to see the hurt in her eyes. The black and blue rims underneath are also beginning to seep through. Every movement she makes, I see a grimace appear on her face and can tell how badly damaged Katniss is.

My mind tries to make sense of everything, but the sight of her in pain is perhaps damaging me even more. I begin to wonder what horrors they could have possibly administered to her that could make her so deteriorated in such a short time.

"Katniss." I whisper, as my voice breaks and the tears begin pouring from my eyes and over my cheeks.

Katniss and Caesar have a few exchanges before Caesar asks her about the rumors that I have been filming propos with the rebels for the districts.

"They are obviously using him." She bites back. "I doubt he even knows what is going on in the war, or what is at stake." Her voice in trembling now.

"Is there anything you want to tell him?" Caeser asks.

"Peeta, don't be a fool." She is looking directly into the camera; directly into my soul. "Think for yourself…for us. They have turned you into a weapon that could be instrumental in the destruction of humanity. If you have any real influence, use it to stop this. Use it to stop the war before it is too late. Do you really trust those that you are working with? Do you really know what is going on? And if you don't, find out!"

The screen is black. Seal of Panem. Show over.

I drop to my knees this time and try not to call out in pure grief because I do not want any nurses coming into the room to sedate me. Surely others have seen this propo and know that I am probably having a severe mental breakdown. But I know that I can not allow myself to do that right now. Katniss believes that something is wrong and I need to find out for her...for us. Just like she said. I know I don't trust Coin, Plutarch- I'm not sure. Katniss' words did seem rehearsed, but where did she get this information? What are they telling her? And more importantly, what are they doing to her?

Suddenly, Finnick grips my arms. "We didn't see it."

"What?"

"We didn't see Katniss. Just the propo on 8. Then we turned it off because it upset us. Got it?" He asks.

"Got it." I reply, understanding his idea.

Finnick and I manage to eat some dinner together. Well Finnick eats, I sit next to him staring at the blank wall while my mind spins. Shortly after, Plutatch, Fulvia, and Gale enter. I am preparing to hear major damage control on her condition. However, Finnick and I go on pretending like we have not seen a thing. And surprisingly, so does Plutarch, Fulvia, and even Gale.

* * *

**Hey guys! Sorry this is a day late. I just started University so am very busy, I hope you understand. Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Please leave me a comment about your thoughts! I hope you guys are anticipating Katniss' return! I can't wait to share that with you! ALSO for my Guarding Daisies readers, I posted my new one-shot; A Special Friend ,so be sure to check that out if you have not already! Be sure to follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm , I will see you all next week XO**


	10. Chapter 9

I knew that I would not get much sleep tonight. How could I after all that I have seen? I also understand that odds are, my nightmares will be more horrific than my awaken thoughts.

In the morning, Cressida asks me to film a few lines for a propo, but when I get onto set, I cannot seem to find the words. In fact, I have not spoken since the conversation I had in the hospital with Finnick. My mind is too numb and shocked to do anything else. I force myself to attend lunch in the main dining area with the others, in hopes that someone will bring up Katniss and tell me what is going on with her situation; but no ones does. Not even Gale. Someone must have seen it besides Finnick and myself. It was a national broadcast sent out across the entire nation.

Eventually, I cannot take sitting with these people anymore, so I get up and place my tray in the bins and exit. I do not get very far however, because Haymitch has followed me out.

"So I heard the morning propo didn't go so well." He states.

I don't respond.

He breathes a long sigh.

"Look, Peeta," he begins, "I know you saw it."

This snaps me out of my state of a mental Avox. "Then why didn't you say anything to me?"

I turn on my toes and am now facing him directly; my eyes do not dare to leave his.

"Because...we were hoping you didn't have to see it."

"So what? If I didn't, your plan was just to keep it a secret from me? There's a possibility that the person I love the most in this world is being tortured and probably killed at this very moment." I snap at him, spitting my words in frustration.

"It was for your own good." He replies quietly.

"You know, I thought you agreed to stop keeping things from me, but apparently Katniss, again, knows more than me. I probably shouldn't trust the people that I'm working with." I turn around and stomp my way down the hallway before my anger becomes explosive and I do something I'll regret. I am so sick of people lying to me for my own good because clearly, no good ever comes out of it.

When I reach my compartment, I slam the door behind me and bury myself into my small bed that sits pressed into the wall. I allow myself to scream into my tiny pillow. My mind is buzzing with the thought of Katniss. I think about the time when I first saw her on our first day of school so long ago; how, at even such a young age, she was already perfect to me. I think of the bread, the cave, the rooftop, the beach- all those wonderful nights where we simply just held each other to escape our own nightmares. I think about how deeply I wish she was lying with me now. I want to smell her hair; smell the scent of lilac and pine. I miss the way her slight frame fit so perfectly up against my chest; how our breathing seemed to be in unison. All of these memories seem to come flooding back to me, and when the realization hits that now they may only be memories, I break down; the tears soaking my pillow. I try to steady my breathing, but it is clear that it is almost uncontrollable.

Suddenly, there is a knock at the door and I lift my head to see Gale standing there. He is clearly in a better emotional state then myself, but there is no hiding the dark rims under his eyes that signal many sleepless nights. I try to wipe my eyes because I am worried that if he sees me in this condition, he'll report it to the hospital and I will be taken back into that horrid place.

"Haymitch asked me to check on you…"

I manage to chuckle though my teary eyes. "What does he care?"

Gale doesn't respond, but instead walks deeper into my compartment and sits on a small grey stool across from my bed. He leans his head back against the chilled wall and I watch his shoulders slouch. He looks younger when he is not standing over me with his shoulders pressed back and strong. Right now he looks vulnerable and he reminds me of myself.

"I don't know how you are staying so strong with all of this." I finally say to break through the silence in the room and to mask the sounds escaping my mouth.

"I just do, I guess..." He replies, sounding unsure.

"You're handling things better than I am." I add feeling inferior.

He stays silent again and just stares up at the dark ceiling. Eventually, his eyes close and I start to become slightly concerned for his sanity now. He slowly begins to lower his chin and I watch as he buries his head into his hands, leaning his elbows into his knees.

"You know, I miss her too. Everyday I'm terrified about what they could possibly be doing to her...after I saw that propo..." He stops himself and I am pretty sure he may be silently crying into his hands. He takes in a deep breath and continues. "...I wanted to break down too, but I keep myself strong because I know that it's what she would want me to be. But it's hard, because everybody keeps asking you about the loss of your love...but nobody bothers to ask me how I feel about losing her."

I lift my head and look at Gale. He is now staring back at me and I can see the distress and hurt plastered all across his face. I am angry at myself for not realizing this sooner and for being so selfish. As deeply as I want to be the one who loves Katniss and the one she loves back, I know that we don't have that right now. I know that Gale loves her too and that she may love him. Yet, no one seems to question Gale about his feelings because the only thing that matters to people are the star-crossed lovers of District 12. I realize again how easily the Capitol was able to manipulate people's mind into thinking that this fabricated relationship is the most important thing in the world.

"You're right." I reply as I stand up.

A confused expression appears on his face at my words; almost as if he does not believe I would reply in such a way.

"We're going to change that."

I begin walking to the exit and motion Gale to follow me. We exit side by side and I lead him to Command, dashing my way down hallways and through people. The eyes of the citizens turn to us and I can tell that they must think we are unstable. And perhaps we are, but with every reason to be.

When we arrive in Command, Haymitch, Plutarch, Fulvia, Cressida, and the team are seated around the table examining some previously shot footage for a propo. However, they turn to us when I burst open the metal door.

"We want to go to District 12...to film a propo!" I blurt out before they can even greet us.

"We do?" Gale replies quietly for only myself to hear.

"And what kind of propo do you have in mind?" says Cressida

"I think Gale should be in this one, talking about Katniss." I reply.

"I don't think that's a good idea," Plutarch begins. "We all agreed to keep Peeta as her lover for the camera."

"Would you people stop focusing on this love story for one second and realize that I am not the only one who loves Katniss and could have something valuable to say about her?" I holler.

"What's your idea, Peeta?" Cressida interrupts.

"Take him into the woods or something and let him talk to you about Katniss; show the people how there are many others fighting to get her home." I plead.

"Gale, what do you think?" Fulvia asks.

"I want to do it." He sternly responds.

"I think it is a wonderful idea!" Cressida says. "However, I think it is important for her protection, to keep their relationship to a strictly family status."

I sigh and I see that Gale also feels defeated.

"Do you think she might see it in the Capitol?" Gale questions.

"It's likely." Plutarch replies.

"She will know Gale; she will know what you mean in your words, even if they want to portray you as family." I say, attempting to reassure him.

He nods his head. "When can you get us to District 12?"

"Today." Cressida says.

* * *

I decide not to go to 12 with the others; this is Gale's moment and he does not need me there making things awkward. He needs time in the woods to reflect on his own situation and his own feelings. I am proud of myself for being able to push my jealously away and help Gale with this opportunity. I also agree that showing how loved Katniss is here will help to show people that we are all fighting to bring her back.

I spend the rest of my day getting lost in 13. I find new hiding spots in tiny storage closets and only come out to eat. I do not feel like talking to anyone right now. My day has already been overwhelming enough. I also would be lying if I said my mind was not captivated by the thought of Katniss and how badly I still want her here. I have been avoiding my schedule again, so I will not be surprised when people begin looking for me. One can only avoid their schedule for so long before it becomes inexcusable.

As I sit with my back against a steel shelf in a storage closet, someone swings the door open. Finally somebody has come to bring me back into this terrible reality. Now, I am forced to face the world and carry on with daily District 13 duties.

"Come on boy, you're wanted in Command." Haymitch's harsh voice booms into my ears and I have a great urge to reach my hands up to my ears to block out the sound.

I simply just shake my head to refuse.

"Gale's back; they want you to see the propo. Come on." Haymitch reaches his hand down to me to help me up, which is surprising for him. However, I decline his offer and force myself to stand on my own. I stumble slightly because I have been seated so long in a cramped area that my legs tingle as I stretch them. I then follow Haymitch silently all the way to Command.

The usual people are sitting around the table; this time Coin and Boggs are also present. I notice how the dark circles are still present under Gale's eyes, however, he looks almost rejuvenated. _She has no idea the effect she can have,_ I think to myself, allowing a grin to appear across my face.

"The filming of Gale's propo was excellent, so I would like to thank Peeta for the wonderful idea!" Cressida says, clapping her hands. Everyone else joins in, except for Coin.

Messalla turns the screen on and Gale appears. He is sitting on a fallen tree, deep within the woods. His face is stern but tired as he looks not into the camera, but into the treetops and begins to speak.

"I was fourteen when Katniss and I started to hunt together- she was only twelve." He begins. "I had obviously known her longer than that, being related to her and all." He says that with a tone of sarcasm and I can't help but love it. The perfect hint of rebellion. "But our fathers were both killed in those horrendous mines and it was up to us to feed our large families. We were young though, and did not have much knowledge of the forest. From an early age, Katniss was a perfect shot; she's the one who taught me how to shoot, and eventually one day, without us even saying anything, we became a team." He says this with a slight smile.

Cressida asks him about the last time he saw Katniss.

"The last time I saw Katniss in person was when she was onstage, and her name was called for the Quarter Quell. They never let me say goodbye to her either; none of us got to say our goodbyes. That was hard. I had this speech all worked out, but she never got to hear any of it. It wasn't fair."

Cressida asks him if he would like to proclaim it now.

"No." Is his only reply.

Cressida asks him what he misses most about Katniss.

He hesitates for a moment as if to search for the right words. This is a difference between Gale and I, because I would immediately have hundreds of different responses and the words would just fly out of my mouth, where Gale chooses everything he is going to say wisely and analyzes its causes and effects.

"... I just miss having someone around that I can trust." He explains. "I just miss my hunting partner; these woods are too vast without her here."

Suddenly, a mockingjay sounds from the tree above Gale and the camera catches his smile. It is perhaps the most timing I have ever seen. The propo fades to black.

Everyone in the room is speechless for a moment until they somehow manage to return to the present and begin clapping and patting Gale on the shoulder, telling him what an amazing job he has done. I also must agree, the propo was outstanding and we can only hope that somehow Katniss will see it because if Gale was told that she wouldn't see it, I doubt he would have been willing to film it. However, with that slight hope that she may hear his words, it was enough.

"Also- exciting news!" Fulvia adds. "We have received word from Beetee that he believes he can air a few propos into the Capitol. He is going to attempt to cut into the Capitol's broadcast tonight!"

"What's going on in the Capitol tonight?" Finnick asks. He is currently fresh out of the hospital and now living in his own compartment. The closest compartment to the hospital, however.

"Snow is making some sort of appearance." Haymitch says.

"Shhh, I think it's starting." Cressida says as the Capitol seal appears across the monitors.

The anthem follows the seal. Then, I am staring directly into the evil snake-like eyes of President Snow. He is greeting the nation with that pure white rose directly placed on his lapel for everyone to view. The camera begins to pull back and Katniss is now in the shot in front of a map of Panem. Her eye is twitching slightly and I notice the nervous tapping motion of her foot. She is draped in a fitted white dress that has a revealing slit trailing all the way up to her mid thigh. This is dress allows me to see just how skinny she has become. There are beads of sweat that have broken through the makeup on her forehead. However, the look in her eyes is what frightens me even more than President Snow himself. She looks enraged, yet blurred.

"She's worse," I cry. Finnick places his arm around my shoulders to anchor me. I try to steady myself, so I am able to hear her words.

Katniss begins to speak in a frustrated tone about the importance of a cease-fire. She speaks of the damage done in multiple districts as the map lights up to show the designated areas.

_BAM!_ Without warning, I am suddenly on television, holding onto the hand of little Eddy in District 8.

Plutarch is immediately up on his feet. "He did it! Beetee broke in!"

The room is filled with applause and cheers, then Katniss is back, and she looks distracted. Perhaps she has seen the flash of the monitor and my face on the screen. She tries to pick up the speech again by talking about the bombing of a water purification plant, when a clip Gale in the forest is suddenly on the screen, smiling at a Mockingjay. Now the entire event turns into a broadcast battle as the Capitol tries to defend off Beetee's attack. Beetee must have understood how the Capitol would be fighting back because he has prepared the best five to ten second clips of the many propos filmed.

Everyone is cheering with delight except for Gale, Haymitch, Finnick, and I. The four of us understand that with every rebel attack, Katniss becomes even more distant from us; slipping farther and farther away from our grasp.

Snow and Katniss are back on the screen and the set is in pure turmoil. The voice of many Capitol citizens are heard from their booths as they try to fight off Beetee's attacks. Snow begins to plow forward and attempts to explain how the rebels are clearly trying to interfere with important information for the citizens, as if the Capitol actually wanted to help the districts. President Snow then turns to Katniss and I immediately feel frightened for her.

"Katniss, given tonight events, is there any parting thought you wish to bestow with Peeta Mellark?"

At the mention of my name, her face contorts in effort. She begins speaking very slowly and sounds almost unsure of her words, as if uttering my name is toxic.

"Peeta...how do you think this will end? No one is safe, not in the districts." She pauses and it's almost as if all of a sudden she's become a little more secure with what she is about to say. "Surely not in the Capitol. And you in Thirteen..." She inhales deeply, almost fighting for air; the look in her eyes is insane. But she is sure of what she is about to say.

"Dead by morning!" She yells.

"End it!" Snow orders and the camera immediately turns from Katniss. Beetee throws everything into even more chaos by producing a still shot of me standing in the hospital, addressing the wounded. Quickly, the Capitol regains control and I can hear Katniss is trying to continue speaking. I am pretty sure I hear the word bombing come from her mouth, but I can't be certain. The camera is lowered out of frame and onto the bright white tiles. The scuffle of boots can be heard. The sound of an impact blow. Katniss' sharp cry of pain. Her blood splatters across the tiles.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed this one! We are getting very close to her return now! Thank you so much for reading this! I have made one small change with the updating schedule. Instead of committing myself to updating to Saturday (which has clearly been failing anyways) it will be Saturday or Sunday. Now that I am in school, myself and my beta are very busy so this extra day will help a lot! ALSO I wanted to say, HAPPY TRAILER DAY to everyone! I hope you are all just as excited as I am! Be sure to follow me on Twitter TributeGirlEm where I post updates and sneak peeks. Today on twitter you will find me freaking out like a fangirl over the trailer however ;) Anyways, see you all next weekend XO **


	11. Chapter 10

The scream forms in my lower back and works its way up through my body and out of my mouth. The blood curdling sound echoes into the room and threatens to deafen me. I dash to the screen and press my hands to it, falling down onto my knees. I slam my fists into the concrete walls and lean my face into it. I continue to scream, letting the tears also fall from my eyes. My screams and sobs are so extreme that I think for a moment that I may suffocate, but then I remind myself that I shouldn't care. I continue until a small prick of pain enters my neck and my entire vision goes black.

* * *

_I lay on the roof top as the soft sun fades into the horizon. The entire sky is filled with an array of breathtaking oranges. However, the brilliant colours in no way compare to the sight in front of me. I lay with my head in Katniss' lap. She is safe and here with me. We are on a roof top somewhere. Not in the training center though; it is much simpler here. The smell of hot chocolate rushes into my nose and I see Katniss take a sip of the steaming liquid. I can't imagine a more perfect moment._

_"Will you stay with me?" I question, looking up into her grey eyes._

_She gives me a small smile that is so filled with love and hope. She places a gentle kiss on my forehead, so I grab her hand and gently kiss it back._

_"Always." She replies to me._

_I feel her hands stroking my hair and softly pushing the strands away from my eyes._

"Peeta, it's okay. You can open your eyes." Another gentle voice is speaking to me. It is very pleasant and soft, but it does not belong to Katniss.

I realize now that I was only dreaming and desperately wish that I was not being awaken. It is so rare that my dreams are that beautiful. However, someone is indeed pushing my hair away from my face and her voice is awfully familiar.

I slowly open my eyes. I am expecting for bright lights to blind my vision but it does not happen. The room I am in is dark and perhaps even gloomier than before.

"Peeta, it's alright. You're in a bunker hospital. We are on a level five lock down." Prim is standing in front of me in her usual nursing attire. She places a cold white wash cloth onto my head after pushing away the hair from my face.

The area I am in is very simple. The walls, floor, and ceiling are all the same grey colour. There are no signs or posters on the wall. I am in a very small area that is sectioned off by curtains. It contains a small side table and my single bed. There are only a few places for Prim to walk around in.

"Katniss saved us all by warning us of the bombing. We were able to evacuate the entire District into these underground bunkers before the bombs hit." She explains, avoiding my eyes.

I instantly wonder where Katniss found out this information. There is a small part of me that feels glad because this proves that Katniss is truly on the rebel side, but is being forced to represent the Capitol.

Then I remember her blood splattering the floor and shut my eyes from the world again. I have no tears because I do not think I have any left in my body. I am to broken and to exhausted to cry.

"She saved everyone?" I ask weakly, even though Prim has just explained it to me.

"She did." She begins. "She gave us a huge lead on the evacuation plan."

"Prim. . . are you alright?" I ask, not wanting to repeat the same mistake I made with Gale.

Prim is silent for awhile. I can tell how hurt she is too. Her eyes seem dull and the ever present smile that always graces her lips, has faded.

"No... not really. I broke too. You are just the only patient I wanted to work with right now." I can see the tears in her eyes, despite the strong exterior she often tries to present. I force myself to sit up even though my body hurts and I open my arms to her. She walks straight into them and wraps her arms around my neck. I hold her tightly with one hand on her head, smoothing her hair as she breaks down into my shoulder.

"I'm here Prim, you have been so strong." I tell her reassuringly. "So much stronger than me; I don't know how you do it."

She separates herself from me and wipes her eyes.

"I just got very scared when they brought you here." She tells me.

I take her hands in mine. "Prim, you don't need to be worried about me."

"But I do Peeta!" She exclaims. "As long as you're alive, they will keep her alive. If you die, they will not have a problem taking her out too!"

I look at her with a confused expression. "Why do you say that Prim?"

"Because she is the best weapon they have against you. If they kill Katniss, they will not have anything left to hurt you with. They won't kill her as long as you're alive."

Suddenly, I flash back to the Quarter Quell, just after Katniss had been trapped within the jabberjay zone. I was holding her and trying to calm her down when Johanna Mason said something that I can only now truly comprehend. "_They can't hurt me. I'm not like the rest of you. There's no one left I love."_

I understand now that both Prim and Johanna are right. Snow can not afford to waste Katniss' life, especially now while the rebels cause so much havoc. He has killed my family, destroyed my home. Katniss is all he has left.

"So, what do you suppose they will do to her?" I ask.

Prim loses all aspects of a young girl when she speaks. She sounds so wise beyond her years. The innocent thirteen year old I once thought I new is now long gone.

"Whatever it takes to break you."

* * *

**Thank you all for reading my story! I know this was a short chapter, but I have some major events coming up in the next ones! I hope you enjoyed Peeta and Prims little moment! Let me know what you thought of them in a review! Special shoutout to christyjosh4eva , ravenclawshadowhunter13 ,cchester1985 ,Luna Jade,pookieortega for taking the time to review my last few chapters! I'm sorry if you reviewed and were not included? Fanfic has been a little off with the reviews lately! Anyways follow me on twitter TributeGirlEm for updates and sneak peeks. Also check out my new Instragram, MakeupGirlEm , where I recreate tons of Katniss' makeup from the movies! I'll see you all next week, thanks again!XO**


	12. Chapter 11

_What will break me?_

This question seems so simple and, perhaps, was at one point in my life. Yet, now the Capitol is involved and they are so advanced. The possibilities of torture they could inflict are endless and that thought begins to break me even further. I am breaking and am unsure if I will be able to be brought back together again and again. But I hang onto Prim's words and the idea that if I am kept alive, Katniss will be too.

The missiles continue to fall every few hours or so, but we are so far down into the depths of the earth that it doesn't harm us. I am still in the hospital and have not been given a compartment to stay in although, I doubt they will at all. The doctors here tell me that I am too unpredictable. Some days I seem stronger than ever, while other days, I seem to lose all will to continue on. Prim continues to visit me in the hospital, as I am the only patient she feels like working with lately. I can tell that this loss is now really starting to take its toll on this young girl who once seemed so strong. She has seen too much. She has watched her sister endure torture that is so beyond her years.

We hardly receive any information about what is going on; only brief audio updates from Coin on the nature of the bombs. The other citizens are put on strict schedules for the days, but they are rather boring because there is not much to be done down here.

I begin to feel trapped in my curtained hospital room, especially when Prim leaves. So, on the third night, I make myself stand. I am wearing a simple hospital gown with my underclothes on underneath. My bare feet are cold against the tile. I exit the small hospital area and begin roaming the bunker for the first time. It is not much more exciting than the area I have been living in. All of the compartment doors are shut for the night and guards stand at the end of the hallway. The compartment closest to the hospital is shut, but a glow of light is coming from the small crack at the bottom of the door. A laminated piece of paper reads the last name Odair. I don't even bother knocking, but instead, push myself into his compartment before a guard spots be and directs me back to the hospital.

Finnick is seated under the safety light in this small space, tying his rope. I can tell that he hasn't had much sleep within these last few days. I begin to tell him about Snow's plan to break me using Katniss as the weapon, when it suddenly dawns on me: this idea is old news to Finnick. It is the exact same strategy that broke him.

"They are doing the exact same thing to me as they do to you with Annie, aren't they?" I ask, coming to this realization.

"Well, they didn't arrest her because they thought she'd be a wealth of rebel information," he says. "They know I'd never risk telling her anything like that; for her own protection."

"Finnick, I'm so sorry," I say.

"No, I'm sorry- that I didn't warn you somehow." He says to me.

Suddenly, a memory enters my mind; right before I was sedated on the hovercraft to District 13 after being pulled from the arena.

_"They'll figure out she doesn't know anything and won't kill her if they believe they can use her against you!" _

"You did try to warn me though, Finnick- on the hovercraft. But when you explained how they would use her against me, I thought you meant like bait to get me into the Capitol." I say.

"I shouldn't have said even that. It was too late for it to have been any help to you. I didn't warn you before the Quarter Quell, so I should have just shut up about the way Snow operates." He says, yanking the end of his rope.

"It's just that I didn't understand when I met both of you. After your first Games, it was pretty clear that you loved her, but I wasn't sure about Katniss…whether it was all for the cameras or not." He begins and I look away not even wanting to think about that right now. "I thought that strategy would just continue into the Quell. But it wasn't until you hit the forcefield and nearly died that I-" He hesitates.

I think back to the arena; Katniss sobbing as my heart began beating again and the puzzled look upon Finnick's face as he watched Katniss break down in my arms. "That you what?"

"That I knew I had misjudged her; that I misjudged your relationship. That she does love you. I'm not saying in what way; odds are she doesn't know herself. But anyone paying attention could see how much she cares for you." He explains gently.

My eyes do not leave Finnick as he speaks to me. I swallow hard and force myself not to cry again. We sit for a long while in silence, watching the knots form and then vanish, until I ask, "How do you bear it?"

Finnick looks at me in disbelief. "I don't, Peeta. Obviously, I don't. I drag myself out of nightmares each morning but find there's no relief in waking. And I see you, Peeta, and you are going down the same exact road that I did and still am. But it is better to not give into it. It takes ten times as long to put yourself together as it does to fall apart."

Finnick- he must know that I am already broken; that just like him, I will have to begin the process of putting myself back together after so much damage.

"The more you distract yourself, the better." He says. "First thing tomorrow, we'll get you your own rope. Until then, take mine."

I spend the rest of my night in my small hospital bed, tying knots and then taking them apart just as Finnick had done. By morning, my fingers are sore and flushed, but I still refuse to let it go.

* * *

After twenty-four hours of no bombs, Coin finally announces we can leave the bunker. The old quarters have been destroyed by the bombs so everyone is given direct orders to their new compartments. I am relieved when they tell me that I am also able to be discharged from the hospital. However, when I get to my new quarters I realize that my next door neighbour is Finnick, thus also making my new home about ten paces away from the hospital entrance.

I am not in my compartment very long before Boggs, Gale, and Finnick are at my door motioning me to Special Defense. Special Defense is almost an identical room to that of Command. Coin, Plutarch, Haymitch, Cressida and everyone else is around a table looking exhausted when I arrive. The smell of coffee fills my nose and Plutarch motions for me to sit, handing me a cup of the bitter liquid.

"Want a sugar cube?" Finnick asks in a seductive voice. I laugh thinking back to the time before the Quell when he asked the same thing to Katniss. After hearing about this encounter, my first instinct was to avoid him at all costs. However, this was before we became allies; before we became friends. Before I learned about the real Finnick Odair.

"It improves the taste." He says, plunking a few cubes in my cup. I am unsure at first because I absolutely hate sugar in my tea, but am surprised how the sweet cubes were able to greatly enhance the taste of the bitter coffee.

"Thank you." I reply with a smile.

"We need all four of you suited up and above ground," says Coin. "You have two hours to get footage showing the damage from the bombs, establish that Thirteen's military unit remains not only functional but dominant, and, most important, that Peeta is still alive. Any questions?"

All of us shake our heads and I am immediately brought into the Remake Room in Special Defence before I can give it a second thought. Portia is there and helps me into my military suit, arranges my hair, and applies minimal makeup for the cameras. She does not say anything about Katniss, which I am almost thankful for because the topic makes me too depressed. Instead our conversations are very light and easy.

By the time we get outside, I have a new appreciation for the outdoors. After being trapped underground for long periods of time, the air always smells fresher, the grass greener, and I love it. When we get into the forest, I notice how the leaves are just beginning to change colour. September will begin in just one week. This will mean that Snow will have Katniss in his clutches for six weeks. The thought causes my body to shudder, so I attempt to push it out of my mind.

The trees begin to disappear as we enter the area inside the fence. There are craters circled into the ground with a mixture of old and new rubble. Everything that was aboveground before and the first ten layers underground have been obliterated.

"How much of an edge did Katniss' warning give?" Haymitch asks.

"About ten minutes before our own systems would have detected the missiles." Boggs says

"But it did help right?" I ask.

"Absolutely," Boggs replies. "Civilian evacuation was completed. Seconds count when you're under attack. Ten minutes meant lives saved."

Odds are, because I was brought down by the medical staff, I was one of the last groups to make it to the bunker. I'll add this to the tally of how many times Katniss Everdeen has saved my life.

Cressida decides to film us in front of the old justice building. It is almost laughable because the Capitol has been using this backdrop for fake broadcasts for years.

As we approach the steps of the destroyed justice building, Gale points to something and the entire group of us comes to a halt. At first, I do not see what the issue is, but then I see that the ground is strewn with fresh pink and red roses.

"Don't touch the flowers!" I yell. "They're for me."

The smell is so sickeningly sweet; it rushes into my nose. My heart instantly begins to beat in my chest. So the red rose I found on Katniss' bed was not just a one time thing. These flowers are not meant for one person, but for a pair of lovers. These were the flowers that graced the stages on the Victory Tour and the tables of the parties we'd attended.

I try to explain this to the others the best I can. I know they are harmless to them because they are not meant to harm me physically. President Snow understands that the best way to hurt me is to do it mentally and these flowers were a wonderful strategy. However, Boggs assembles a group of people in specialized suits to collect them anyways.

Eventually the group gets in place. Castor and Pollux stand, cameras ready with Cressida next to them. The anxiety that the roses have brought upon me is too much. The red reminding me of Katniss' blood splattering the white tiles. My hands physically shake, so I hold them, trying to catch my breath. The sweat trickles down my back and temples.

"Are you feeling alright?" Cressida asks clearly seeing that something is not right with me. "How about we do a Q&amp;A thing?"

I only nod. Finnick gives me the thumbs up, but I am pretty sure he is shaking himself.

"So Peeta, you've survived the Capitol bombing of Thirteen. How did it compare with what you experienced on the ground in eight?" Cressida asks.

I know what I want to say, and what I should say, but I cannot seem to let words escape from my mouth. I try to swing my arms to loosen myself up. I place my hand on the back of my neck and then drop them to my sides. I have the intense urge to vomit so I swallow hard and try to speak, but once again, I am mute.

I cover my face with my hands. I can't do this. It is completely impossible to be the face of this rebellion; so impossible to complete even one sentence. This is because I know that everything I say will directly be taken out upon Katniss. It will only result in her torture. She will not die of course, that would be to merciful. Snow will make sure her life is much worse then death. Katniss and I protect each other and by speaking in this manner I am only ailing her further.

"Cut!" I hear Cressida holler.

"What's wrong with him?" Plutarch says under his breath. I am curled up with my knees tucked into my chest and my hands over my face, but no tears fall. He probably assumes that I can't hear him, but I most certainly can.

"He figured out how Snow is using Katniss." Finnick adds.

I can almost hear a collective sigh amongst the group. Now, they know that even my use of speech has been taken away. Now, I do not even have that because even my most powerful weapon is being used against me. There is no way for me to not know this again. Today only confirms something I already knew; I am broken.

Several sets of arms attempt to embrace me. But surprisingly, there is only one person I want to comfort me. I walk straight into Haymitch's arms, because in the end, I know he loves Katniss too.

"It's okay, we'll be alright Peeta." He keeps his arms around me as he helps me sit back down on a piece of a broken marble pillar.

I still do not cry. I am too broken for such an intense emotion.

"I can't do this anymore," I say.

"I know." He replies.

"All I can think of is. . . what he's going to do to Katniss. . .because I'm here." I get out.

"I know." Haymitch says, tightening his grip around me.

"Did you see? How strange she acted? What are they. . .doing to her?" I am hyperventilating now. "It's my fault!" I get out one last phrase before Haymitch stands up and pulls me up with him. Gale grabs my other arm and they stabilize me and begin to walk me back towards the depths of 13.

I lose it completely when I see Plutarch prick Finnick with a needle, causing him to become sedated. Finnick broke down into sobs right after I started hyperventilating. Finnick began trashing and yelling through his tears, so Plutarch stuck a needle into his neck. When I go to knock the needle from his hands, I watch Haymitch stick me with a needle right into the shoulder. I want to yell at him too, but the sedation makes me feel calm until my vision goes black again.

* * *

When I wake, I am in the hospital and I am suddenly afraid that they are going to keep me here permanently now. I am in and out of the hospital so often that it is almost wasteful to give me my own compartment and here in District 13, they are not wasteful.

Haymitch is sitting in a chair across from me when I open my eyes. This makes me remember Katniss and I begin to tremble. I know that I must stay alive and that I must live for her, it is just so difficult when she is so far away. Without my family and without her, I feel like I have nobody left to love.

"It's alright. We're going to try to get Katniss out."

"What?" I question because Haymitch had just told me that it was still too soon to perform any rescue attempt.

"Plutarch's sending in a rescue team. He has people on the inside. He thinks he can get her back alive." He says.

"Why did you decide this now?" I ask, forcing myself to sit up.

"Because it was costly. But everyone thinks this is the thing to do. We can't lose you now. And you can't perform unless you know Snow can't take it out on Katniss. Also, if we can get Katniss here, we can finally put the official Mockingjay plan into action." Haymitch offers me a cup. "Here, drink something."

I slowly take a sip of water and try to fully analyze the situation before I begin to celebrate. "What do you mean costly?"

He shrugs. "Covers will be blown. People may die. . .but keep in mind that they're dying every day. And it's not just Katniss; we're getting Annie out for Finnick, too."

"Where is he?" I ask.

"Behind the screen. It was really an excellent shoot. You two cracked up and Boggs left to arrange the mission to get them out. We're officially in reruns."

I can't help but smile a little now. "Well if Boggs is leading it, that's a plus," I say.

"Oh, he's on top of it. It was volunteer only of course." He explains.

"So who else volunteered?" I ask.

"I think there was seven altogether." He says evasively.

I get a bad feeling in my stomach because obviously I know who volunteered first. I do not even have to ask. I know the first face she will see. I know the one who will probably rescue her from the Capitol's grasp; who will probably hold her and comfort her the entire way home. And maybe that's the way she would have wanted it.

Gale.

* * *

**Hello readers! Sorry this is a day late! University life has been crazy, so finding time to get these up has been hard! Anyways I hope you enjoyed this chapter! BIG things are coming next so I hope you are ready for them! I will see you all next weekend! XOXO**


	13. Chapter 12

Today I could lose her. Today Katniss could be killed during her rescue. Any of the soldiers on the team could die today. There is also a chance that Katniss may return home, but Gale won't. The idea of losing any of the soldiers during this is terrifying.

I try to image a world where Katniss Everdeen does not exist, however, it is hard because I know that if Katniss does not exist in this world, then odds are I will not either. If she dies, I will truly have nothing- nobody else that I truly care about will be left. A world without Katniss Everdeen is a world that I do not desire to live in. She is everything to me; I just want her to be happy and safe, whether that is with me or not. I have discovered that when you love someone so deeply, they never really leave your soul. They are somehow forever with you; I will always carry our story. Without her, I am nothing. When I am with her I am something- but together, she is everything to me.

"Do you want me to sedate you until it's over?" asks Haymitch. He's not joking either. But I give him a disturbed look anyways.

"No," I reply. "I want to go to the Capitol and I want to be apart of this rescue mission!"

"They're gone," says Haymitch.

"Well, how long ago did they leave? I can catch up?" I suggest, pulling the sheets off of my bare legs and standing up. I am a little wobbly, but I catch the bedside railing to stable myself.

"It will never happen." Haymitch says, shaking his head. "You are much too valuable and vulnerable. There was talk of sending you to another district to divert the Capitol's attention while the rescue takes place, but no one felt you could handle it."

"Haymitch please!" I am begging now. "I can't just sit here and do nothing; waiting to hear if they died! I have to help somehow or I won't be able to live with myself."

"Alright, I'll talk to Plutarch."

Haymitch leaves and tells me to stay put, but I can't- there is too much on my mind now. I plunge my way through the thin dividing curtain into Finnick's area and find him lying flat on his stomach. I know it is cruel to wake him during one of his few moments of rest, but I have so many thoughts and words to share, I cannot possibly go through this alone.

When I explain the situation, his face instantly brightens. "Don't you see, Peeta? This will decide things- one way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll either be dead or with us. It's . . .more than we could hope for!"

Finnick certainly has a brighter view on the situation. Yet, I must agree that in the depths of my heart, there is some relief knowing that one way or another, the torture will end for Katniss today.

Suddenly, the curtain yanks back and Haymitch is standing before us. He explains how they still need post-bombing footage of 13.

"If we can get it in the next few hours, Beetee can air it leading up to the rescue, and maybe keep the Capitol's attention elsewhere." He adds.

"Yes- a distraction," says Finnick, sounding pleased. "A decoy of sorts."

"What we need is something so riveting that even President Snow won't be able to tear himself away. Got anything like that?" asks Haymitch.

Having a job like this makes me feel more important, almost as if I am helping to protect Katniss again. I scarf down my lunch and realize that I already know what I am going to talk about. President Snow took Katniss and used her to break me. Therefore, I must show him that I am whole and that my love for her is more powerful than ever before. I understand how a few simple outbursts is not what he is looking for; it is these deep and powerful stories that will catch people's attention.

I know immediately that it will work, so when the television crew assembles aboveground, I ask Cressida to begin questioning me about Katniss. I take a seat on the marble pillar where I had my breakdown and wait for Cressida's cue.

"How did you meet Katniss?" She asks me.

The question instantly makes me smile because out of all the seventeen years of my life, all the days I have lived through, I can honestly count this one as one of the top three best days of my entire life.

"When I first laid eyes on Katniss Everdeen, I was only five years old. It was our first day of school and I still have a vivid picture of her standing there in a bright red plaid dress. Her hair was fashioned perfectly into two braids instead of her traditional one. Even at that young age, I could see how beautiful she was. Her voice was almost more stunning than her appearance. Everyone would stop what they were doing to listen to her sing; even the birds outside the windows. I often think that those were the moments where I really fell in love with her. Many people have tried to tell me that it is far to absurd for a young five year-old to be in love, but I disagree, because ever since that day my feelings for her have never changed. Perhaps they have grown stronger, but there is not a day that goes by where I do not love her. And nobody can change that."

I pause and take a breath; my words had been flowing so freely from my mouth.

"What do you miss most about her?" Cressida questions.

I look up to the clear blue sky for a moment because there are multitude things that I miss about her.

"I miss . . .I miss knowing that she is safe." I begin. "I miss her smile because at times it was so rare that it became even more beautiful every time it happened. I miss her exquisite grey eyes that are the most alluring feature she has. If you gazed into them too long, you began to feel like you were watching a morning sunrise or the night sky on the most star-filled evening. I have tried to paint them multiple times, but I haven't quite mastered that perfect combination of colours to do them justice."

The entire crew is so silent now that you could hear a pin drop. I have to nod my head in order to remind Cressida that she can ask me the next question.

"How are you dealing with the separation?"

"It's almost something I can't explain because I can't really comprehend how this entire situation makes me feel. Knowing that Snow could kill her at any minute is a terrible thing to try to live with, but I know now that I have no reservations about doing what it takes to destroy the Capitol. Just look at what they are doing to her and it becomes clear. I am finally free because of that. I just want her home. The districts need to understand that once we declare our freedom, the Capitol will collapse because it is completely dependent on the Districts. Today, I declare my freedom, not only for myself, not only for Katniss, but for everyone that was killed under the Capitol's control."

I have succeeded. It may not have been dazzling, but my words were exactly what we were looking for. I have even managed to choke a few people up. Fulvia and Portia are in full tears. Cressida and Castor have to wipe a tear away from their cheeks.

Plutarch then calls Finnick over and he takes a seat on the same pillar that I was previously sitting on. I now stand behind the camera next to Haymitch. Finnick looks almost frightened. He is pale and has a slight shake in his hands

"You don't have to do this." Haymitch tells him. This automatically makes me wonder what Finnick might possibly have to say. I mean, I know he has gone through plenty of pain in his life, but I really don't know much about his story outside of the games.

"Yes, I do. If it will help her," he balls up his rope into his hands, "I'm ready."

I guess you could say I was expecting some story that was similar to mine; a love story about Annie, maybe perhaps about his horror in the games. However, Finnick takes a completely unexpected approach.

"President Snow used to . . .sell me . . .my body, that is." Finnick begins in a tone that is so removed. "I wasn't the only one. If a victor is considered desirable, the president gives them as a reward or allows people to buy them for an exorbitant amount of money. If you refuse, he kills someone you love- so you do it."

Now it is my turn to stand behind the camera and become speechless; my simple romantic story about Katniss has instantly been blown out of the water. For once, my words have become almost meaningless. Finnick's words begin to explain so much. His many lovers in the Capitol, they were never real lovers. They were just people with enough money to buy a vulnerable victor. He was devoured and discarded because of his appearance. I now feel entirely guilty for every false accusation I have ever had against this District 4 victor.

"I wasn't the only one, but I was the most popular. And perhaps the most defenseless because the people I loved were so defenseless." He explains. "To make themselves feel better, my patrons would make presents of money or jewellery, but I found a much more valuable form of payment." Finnick takes a deep breath, filling his lungs before he speaks again. "Secrets. And this is where you are going to want to stay tuned, President Snow, because so very many of them were about you. But let's begin with some others."

Finnick begins to dive into these intense, captivating stories that are so rich in detail that you know how true they are. He tells tales about obscured sexual appetites, intense betrayals of the heart, unending greed, and bloody power plays. I can't help but think of many of the other victors. Cashmere, Chaff, Brutus even. Many of them were reasonably attractive; many of them probably sold a few times themselves. If Katniss and I were not the star crossed lovers of District 12, odds are, we would have been sold a fair share of times ourselves too. However, no one has suffered in this way as much as Finnick. He was a true example of a Capitol slave. I don't recognize any of the names Finnick professes, but from the faces of Portia and Fulvia, I can tell that they recognize many. Their secrets poured out to the camera now.

"And now, on to our good President Coriolanus Snow," Finnick says triumphantly. "Such a young man when he rose to power, such a clever one to keep it. How, you must ask yourself, did he do it? One word. That's all you really need to know. Poison." Finnick goes back to the Snow's political beginning, pointing out several cases of unexplained deaths of Snow's adversaries, sometimes even allies. People dropping dead at dinner parties- blamed on bad food or elusive viruses. Snow drank from the poisoned chalice himself to avoid suspicion, but antidotes don't always work. Apparently, that is why he wears those roses that reek so foully of perfume; to cover the sent of blood in his mouth from sores that will never fully heal. They say that he has a list . . .and no one knows who will come next."

When I think about all of the heinous crimes the Capitol had already committed, I must admit that these stories do not truthfully shock me. However, when I look around to see the faces of the people who once lived within the streets of the Capitol, they are completely flabbergasted. Even Plutarch seems rather shocked. The crew keeps the camera rolling until Finnick has to be the one who yells "Cut". They are all waiting around, wondering what other stories he has stored up in his memory waiting to burst out.

The crew hurries to edit this material. I am left in the rubble, beginning to realize that odds are, President Snow would have probably sold Katniss and I anyways. Sure our love means depths to some citizens, but it obviously means nothing to him. I am sure he would have got a fabulous price for the boy with the bread and the girl on fire. Perhaps offering us up as a pair even. The thought makes me shiver. How completely dehumanizing that must have felt for these slaves.

"Is that what happened to you?" I ask Haymitch suddenly concerned that this list may be longer that I once assumed.

"No. My mother, younger brother- my girl…they were all dead two weeks after I was crowned victor. All because of that stunt I pulled with the force field." He answers. "Snow had no one to use against me."

This is the first time I have heard about Haymitch's loss from the games. I had known that people he loved were killed, but I was not aware of the detail.

"I'm sorry, Haymitch." I tell him.

"I was the example boy. The person to hold up to the young Finnick's and Enobaria's and Johanna's of what could happen to a victor who caused problems," says Haymitch.

"Until Katniss and I came along." I say softly.

Haymitch is still and does not reply.

With our jobs done, there is nothing for us to do but wait. Finnick and I wait together in special defense; tying knots and watching the minutes tick by. We don't eat much lunch so I watch him test out his trident in the shooting range.

At 15:00, the designated hour, we stand at the back of the room with tense muscles and silent mouths watching Beetee attempt to dominate the airways. His face is creased and he looks very determined. Most of my interview does not make it into the propo, just a few bits to show that I am still alive and am declaring my freedom from the Capitol. It is Finnick who becomes the star of this propo. At first, the Capitol feed alternates between the usual newscast and Finnick. However, Beetee's attempts improve because the techno team manages to override the entire attack on Snow.

When the propo is done, Beetee ends up showing us a blue print of the rescue plan. The plan includes freeing the prisoners from an underground prison using knockout gas distributed through the vents, a power failure, a bombing of a government building a few blocks down, and finishing with the propo attack.

"Well, they are either out or dead by now!" Beetee exclaims with a smile.

Finnick and I look at each other and I stable myself on the back of Beetee's wheel chair. We end up back in Command because that is most likely the first place the news of the rescue will come.

Make knots. No words. Make knots. Make knots. Watch the clock. Tick Tock. Do not think of Katniss. Make knots.

Finnick eventually gives up on the knots and positions himself in that same curled up position he took in the area after being trapped in the jabberjay sector.

"Did you love Annie right away Finnick?" I ask.

"No," A long time goes by before be finishes his sentence, "she crept up on me."

* * *

It must be midnight; it must be tomorrow. I have lost count of how long we have been waiting in this room. Finally, Haymitch bursts through the door. "They're back. We're wanted in the hospital." My mouth opens with a flood of questions about Katniss, but he cuts me off.

"That's all I know."

I want to run, I want to sprint down these hallways and find her. However, Finnick is acting so strange- like he has lost all ability to move. So I take his hand and pull him because I do not want to leave him behind, but I do not have the time to wait around while he learns how to walk on his own again. When the elevator doors open, the place is in an uproar. Doctors are shouting and the wounded are being wheeled through the halls on beds and wheelchairs.

I almost lose it at the sight of a young woman with a shaven head. Her flesh is bruised with oozing scores that look infected. It's Johanna Mason; a woman who actually knew rebel secrets, and this is how she paid for it. I blink back the tears and move myself on because I have to find Katniss.

Out of the corner of my eye I see Gale. He is in a wheelchair with his shirt off as a nurse is pulling something out of his shoulder with tweezers. I am surprised he is not with Katniss. His eyes are red, almost as if he looks to have been crying. And chilling enough, I doubt his tears are from the pain of his wound.

"Finnick!" A high-pitched shriek pulls my mind back to reality. A beautiful, but worn woman with messy dark hair and green eyes runs towards us in nothing but a sheet to cover her naked body.

"Finnick!" They collide into each other and in this moment, it is almost as if no one else in the world matters. They slam into a wall and hold each other collapsing to the ground where they stay, clinging to each other in pure love and relief.

A pang of jealousy hits me. No one seeing this pair would ever doubt their love.

Boggs finds Haymitch and me. He looks exhausted, but unharmed. "We got them all out. Except Enobaria, but she is from 2 so we doubt she is being held anyways. Katniss is at the end of the hall. The effects of the gas are just wearing off. You should be there when she wakes."

Katniss.

The tears instantly form in my eyes. She is here and alive. In a few minutes, I will able to hold her, smell her, touch her. I will see her smile and remind her that I will always be here for her. Haymitch has to remind me to be strong because Katniss has been through a lot and she does not need a weeping emotionally unstable baker to wake up to.

"Come on then!" Haymitch adds, with a smile this time.

My heart is beating out of my chest and I am light-headed with excitement. All I can picture is Finnick and Annie and how I can only hope we have even a fraction of that. I try to think of something to say, but then realize that I just want to hug her and hopefully even kiss her. I hope that our kiss feels like those kisses on the beach because that was a kiss where I could tell that Katniss really felt something for me.

She is awake already, sitting on the side of the bed. She looks bewildered as a team of doctors are shining lights into her eyes and checking her pulse. However, she looks beautiful all the same.

When I walk into the room, her face displays disbelief and something else that I cannot seem to place. I remind myself to go slow and to not just sweep her up into my arms. She gets a better view of me and sweeps the doctors aside and is up on her feet. I can't help but grin as she moves towards me. I can't help myself anymore. I run to meet her, the tears filling my eyes. When her arms extend out to me, they begin to fall. She is reaching for my face and I know that I am going to kiss her, feel her lips crashing into mine.

I just begin to call her name and bring my face closer to hers when her fingers lock around my throat.

* * *

**HELLO EVERYONE! Sorry that this is so late! But I really hope that it was worth it! This chapter was intense to write so I hope you enjoyed it! Be sure to leave me a comment of your thoughts! See you all soon! XOX**


	14. Chapter 13

The look in her eyes terrifies me beyond comprehension. They are charcoal black and that beautiful starlit gray is so far gone. Her fingers are cold around my neck, but I feel no physical pain. She is trying to kill me; I can see it in her face, but I know immediately that this is not her. They have done this to her. The Katniss I once knew is not here. A thousand different memories surge through my mind at this moment. The way her head used to fit perfectly into the spot under my chin, lying with her on the roof stroking back her hair, my lips sweeping across her neck on the train, or her hands skimming my cheek and neck ever so gently on the beach. All of that is over. I reach up to stroke her cheek and her grip tightens around my neck, cutting off my air supply.

Suddenly, I watch Boggs hit her in the back of the head, causing her to fall and pull her hands away from me. I gasp for air to regain my strength and then ball my hand into a fist, connecting it with Boggs' temple. Someone else sends a needle into my neck. I try to stand and keep myself upright. I lunge for Katniss because she is now also lying unconscious on the ground. I scream. I stumble to the ground next to her. My world goes black.

* * *

When I attempt to breathe, it is painful because it feels like only a small amount of air is flowing through my larynx. A tube sits around my ears and face, leading to my nose, giving me extra oxygen to keep me alive. There is a brace around my neck that only helps to remind me of what happened to put me in this hospital. I tell myself to keep breathing because despite what some doctors believe, I do not want to die. I need to live. I need to help bring Katniss back from her dark and cold mind that does not belong to her.

It was Boggs who sedated Katniss before permanent damage could be done. I know Haymitch would have come to my defense too, but none of us were prepared for what happened. She is hurt; her mind trapped away deep within her brain, shadowed by deep fear and hatred brought on by the Capitol.

Eventually Plutarch, Haymitch, and Beetee enter my room and I instantly hope that they are going to tell me I can exit the hospital and begin helping with Katniss' rehabilitation.

A nurse helps me sit up and give me a shot of something to ease the swelling. Prim is not my usual nurse anymore. She is now devoting her time to work with Katniss because Prim is one of the few people who's memory was thankfully not touched by the Capitol. Besides, the Capitol did not have access to their story the way they did ours, they had no memories of Prim to alter that severely. However, our relationship was so public that everything was used against her.

"So…Peeta, Katniss' condition has come as a shock to all of us," Plutarch begins. "We couldn't help but notice her deterioration in the last two interviews. Obviously, she's been abused, and we put her psychological state down to that. Now, we believe something more was going on, that the Capitol has been subjecting her to a rather uncommon technique known as hijacking. Beetee?"

"I'm sorry Peeta, but I can't tell you the specifics of it." Beetee says. "The Capitol is very secretive about this form of torture, and I believe the results are inconsistent. This is what we know: it's a type of fear conditioning. The term hijack comes from an old English word that means 'to capture' or even better, 'to seize'. We believe it was chosen because the technique involves the use of tracker jacker venom, and the jack suggests hijack. You were stung in your first Hunger Games, so unlike most of us, you have firsthand knowledge of the effects of the venom."

I remember back to my first games, after fighting off Cato. I remember the hallucinations and visions of Katniss being killed. The venom targets the part of your brain that houses fear.

"Recall has been made even more difficult because memories can be changed." Beetee taps a spot on his forehead. "Brought to the forefront of your mind, altered, and saved again in the revised form. Now, imagine that I ask you to remember something- either with a verbal suggestion or by making you watch a tape of the event. Then, while that experience is refreshed, I give you a dose of tracker jacker venom. Not enough to induce a three-day black out, just enough to infuse the memory with fear and doubt. And that's what your brain puts in long-term storage."

I start to feel sick again and the true realization of what they have done to her.

"So, that's what they've done to her? Taken all of her memories with me and distorted them into something she fears?"

Beetee nods his head. "So scary that they seem life threatening to her. So scary that she wants to kill you. Yes, that's our current theory. You are not the only one, however, she fears Gale as well; just not as deeply as she fears you. The Capitol had way more usable footage of the two of you."

I cover my face with my hands and clench them into fists hoping to relieve some frustration. This does not seem possible. How could someone have the ability to make a person forget about his or her feelings towards someone else? How could they make her forget that she cared for me, perhaps loved me even? That thought is enough to break me.

"We're going to reverse it though, right?" I finally ask.

"We…have very little data on that," Plutarch says. "None, actually. If hijacking rehabilitation has been attempted before, than we have no records of it."

"But we are going to try!" I say sternly.

"Of course we will try, Peeta." Beetee says with a smile. "It's just, we don't know to what degree we'll succeed. My guess…"

"We are going to succeed." I interrupt. "I don't care what you think, Katniss is going to come back."

Everyone only nods.

"We're putting together a team of mental health and military professionals. I personally feel optimistic that she'll make a full recovery." Plutarch explains, his words sounding a little too forced.

"Do you?" I ask, my words directed towards Haymitch.

With one glance at Haymitch, I can see the exhaustion and discouragement in his eyes. "I think she'll get somewhat better. But…I don't think she will ever be the same."

Tears fill my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I need to remain strong and get myself out of this hospital. I need to help Katniss.

"At least she is alive," Plutarch says. He seems to be losing patience with us already. "Katniss is damaged, but she's here. With us. And that's a definite improvement over this situation twelve hours ago. Let's keep that in mind, all right?"

Plutarch is right, and his words manage to make me feel somewhat better. Knowing that she is out of the hands of President Snow is such a wonderful relief. Yet, her condition often overshadows the hope, but I remind myself that it's still there- that I'm going to fight for her and bring the Katniss that I fell in love with back, because she's in there somewhere, and I will not leave her behind again.

* * *

They make me stay in the hospital for two extra days. I consider attempting to sneak my way out, but decide against it because odds are, if I was caught, they would want to keep me in here longer. However, when I am finally discharged, I race down to Katniss confines. Haymitch tells me how I am not allowed to see her yet because apparently, just hearing my name can set her off, let alone seeing my face. But I am allowed to sit behind a one-way glass wall where many other doctors sit, observing her. They are all staring intensely at the glass with pens and clipboards in hand. I can't help but feel like they are treating her like some kind of animal. I have to remind myself that they're only trying to help her.

"Prim is the only person she is completely comfortable with, so they have been using her a lot to help explain things to Katniss. She really trusts Prim." Haymitch tells me.

I nod my head. I think it is clear to everyone that these sisters have always had a relationship that was beyond love. They are willing to sacrifice everything for each other.

"Today Prim is going in to try to help Katniss understand her relationship with Gale." Haymitch adds a little apprehensively.

I see Gale seated a few seats over to my left. I don't think he's even noticed me enter the room; his eyes are locked on Katniss. Yet he has every reason to- Prim is probably about to remind her sister of the special relationship they had together. I am also going to get a front row view.

Katniss is sleeping right now and I notice how beautiful she looks. I always admired how young and radiant she looked while she was sleeping. Sometimes I would just stare at her for hours.

I watch as the door to her room slowly opens and Prim quietly walks in. Her hair is swept to the side of her shoulder and she too looks very tired.

"Katniss." She says gently as she walks toward her bedside. "Katniss."

Katniss stirs and eventually opens her eyes. She is startled at first and begins thrashing. I want to get up and run into her room because it is clear she was having a bad dream. And I have always been the one to pull her out of her nightmares so many times before. I was the one who held her close to prevent the terrifying images in her sleep. But I stay in my seat because I know that I'm now probably the terrifying image she is seeing.

Once she sees Prim's face in front of her, stroking her shoulder, she relaxes and a small smile appears across her face. It's so good to see her smile because when I was in the hospital, I was not sure I would be seeing it anytime soon.

"Is she like this with anyone else?" I ask Haymitch.

He shakes his head. "Not even close, even people she's never met, she is very cold towards. There is just a lot of confusion in her mind. Even her mother she is not sure of. Only Prim."

"How are you feeling?" Prim asks her.

"Better now that you came to visit me, little duck." Katniss says, sweeping a lose strand of hair away from Prim's face. "What did you do today?"

Prim hesitates for a moment before she speaks. I can tell she is really considering what she is about to say.

"I just had lunch in the dining hall….with Gale."

Katniss' face turns cold and it is clear how uncomfortable she is.

"Prim, I told you not to go near him, he could be dangerous!" Katniss exclaims. I watch Gale squirm in his seat.

"No, Katniss; he's not. Believe me…we have known him for a long time! He is your good friend." Prim speaks very calmly and slowly.

I can tell Katniss really comprehends everything Prim is explaining to her because their trust is very strong. Just one look at her face and you can tell her ideas and perceptions of Gale are changed from Prim's words.

"I don't…I think he wants to hurt me, Prim…or you." Katniss adds, sitting up in her bed.

"He doesn't though…he misses you." Prim replies.

Katniss wrinkles her eyebrow. "Does he love me?"

Prim hesitates here because I know she does not want to set her off. "I think so."

"And do I love him?"

Prim shifts her eyes away from Katniss and stares at the blank wall. I am not sure I want to hear this answer. I am not sure I want the confirmation of the fact that Katniss loves another man who is not me.

"You do," Prim begins, "but not in the way you suppose."

This takes me back. What does she mean by not in the way you suppose?

"What do you mean Prim?" Katniss asks, clearly as confused as the rest of us.

"I…I just think your heart was with someone else, Katniss." Prim says.

Someone else? Who else could there possibly be! Is there another man in her life that I-

My mouth instantly drops open at the realization that this someone else is me. I watch Gale look away from the glass and he immediately stands. He doesn't say anything and I don't dare look at his face. He strides to the door, slamming it behind him.

"Who?" I manage to here Katniss ask.

Now it is clear that Prim has become nervous. She knows she is not supposed to mention my name- not yet anyway. But now Katniss has brought it up and I don't think Prim was informed of what to do in a situation quite like this.

"We will talk about it another time, Katniss. I have to go to a class now on my schedule."

Katniss looks very confused, but she nods her head in agreement to her sister's words. They embrace quickly and Prim walks out of the room. My eyes do not leave the glass and my mouth continues to hang open at the thought of Prim's words. She has never really told me about these thoughts before. It feels somewhat selfish towards Gale, but I am very thankful she was able to tell Katniss that. There is also a stream of bliss coursing through my veins right now. Hearing from the person who is the closet to Katniss confirm that Katniss may have honestly loved me is the greatest thing I have heard since I arrived here. This helps me believe that her feelings for me will help in the process of bringing her back.

* * *

**You guys have been so deprived of Everlark with this story, that I had to through something somewhat positive in there! Don't get to excited though! This ship is fair from setting sail yet! Anyways, I hope you enjoyed this chapter, feel free to leave me any comments or suggestions of ideas you would like to see in this story in the future! I will see you all again soon! XOX**


	15. Chapter 14

This morning, the crew left for District 2 to film a propo, or perhaps really to get away from the situation here. Katniss has now been in District 13 for six days. The plan for her rescue was also done in hopes that she would be useful as the Mockingjay, the role that was created for her all along. However, clearly right now, she is not stable enough to take that on. When she is not with Prim she lashes out, she can barely eat on her own when she is not there. So many things frighten her; so many people frighten her. It's hard to watch. Haymitch knew that he did not need to ask me to go to District 2. There was no way I was leaving now. I want to be here to see all of Katniss' improvements and setbacks; to help in any way that I can. They took Gale with them however; they needed someone to film. Gale has been struggling a lot with this, much like myself. However, he channels his feelings differently. He prefers keeping them to himself, and removing himself from these situations.

I don't sleep much anymore. I stay in a small glass room next to Katniss' quarters until late hours of the night, when they force me to leave. I come back in the mornings everyday at around 5:00AM. This is the time I used to arrive at the bakery each morning, so it actually feels somewhat normal. I try to remember to eat all of my meals, but lately I have been skipping many of them, and when I do eat, I allow myself ten minutes maximum until I force myself to return to Katniss. I have been avoiding my schedule completely, but nobody bothers me about it, at least for now. It takes a lot of strength to sit in the room every day because I so desperately want to run inside and be with her. But I can't.

Prim started slowly. Convincing Katniss that people like her mother, Finnick or even Buttercup won't hurt her. She has even almost completely convinced Katniss that Gale is not evil, which is a terrific improvement. Yet, she has still been instructed not to bring up my name. It's been hard because she has been bringing up the arena lately. Prim is scheduled to go into Katniss' quarters again today and they have instructed her to discuss the arena with Katniss. They even suggested bringing in Finnick to help clarify things.

* * *

Katniss and Prim sit around a small table that was placed in her room to eat lunch. I notice how they are eating lamb stew, and how Katniss probably forgets how fond she has always been of the warm creation.

"It smells familiar." Katniss states, inhaling the aroma of the stew.

"Try it," replies Prim. "It's one of your favourites."

Katniss stirs the broth around her bowl for a minute examining her meal. She then takes a spoonful and slowly brings it to her mouth. I watch her face light up and it makes me smile. She has the same reaction she did the first time she tried it, and for a moment, the old Katniss seems present.

Just as they finish their lunch, Finnick knocks on the door.

"Katniss, our friend Finnick is coming to visit you. He is very nice and won't hurt you." Prim explains.

Katniss nods her head, but she is visibly uncomfortable. Her body stiffens and I can see a slight twitch in her eye. When Finnick opens the door, he is smiling, but I can tell he seems nervous.

"Hi Katniss, Finnick says cheerfully.

"Hello." Katniss replies coldly.

"It's great to see you; you look well." He adds.

She does not respond.

Finnick takes a seat next to Prim and for awhile, Katniss just studies him. You can tell that she recognizes him, but does not know whether to trust him or not.

"You were in the arena too." Katniss finally says without bothering to ask any simpler question.

"Yes, I'm a victor just like you are." Finnick explains calmly.

Katniss takes in his words. "You...you were in there with me?"

"Yes, during the Quarter Quell." Finnick replies.

"How many people were in that arena, Finnick?" Katniss asks. She is clearly confused. The doctors comment on how promising it seems that Katniss is already referring to him by his name. I pretend to agree that it seems like an important improvement.

"Twenty-four go into the arena, Katniss." Prim adds.

"But there are only twelve districts; how can that be?" Katniss replies rather harshly.

Finnick and Prim look at each other and a few of the doctors in the observation room stiffen. This is a dangerous subject to be discussing because it is difficult to talk about district partners without talking about me.

"Two from…every district." Finnick replies.

"Your partner…I think I remember her. She was old, and could not speak very well. What was her name again? Mags!" Katniss shouts at the recollection.

Finnick's face brightens and he smiles at her because out of everything she chose to remember, she remembers Mags.

"Did she make it?" Katniss asks.

Finnick's joy fades instantly. "No…she didn't."

Katniss again is silent and her face tightens. Her eyes narrow and it is clear how hard she is thinking.

"Fog." She states.

Finnick nods his head

For a moment, we believe she is done, that she has nothing else about partners to ask. For a moment, it seems like Finnick and Prim were able to steer clear of this difficult topic.

"Who was my district partner? I'm not sure why I can't remember." Katniss says, looking down at her hands. She is visibly frustrated at herself for not knowing this.

It makes my heart instantly drop because my name is not supposed to me mentioned. I watch the doctors sit forward on the edge of their seats as they wait to hear how Prim and Finnick are going to respond to this situation.

"Uh, well, he was a boy from the town, Katniss." Prim says.

"Why can't I remember his name?" Katniss responds, becoming angry with herself.

"The Capitol did a lot to tamper with your memory, Katniss…" Finnick tells her gently.

"But, they just…they were helping me…what was his name?" Katniss is stuttering.

Haymitch is standing up and pacing closer to the glass, not sure if someone should intervene. Finnick and Prim clearly are unaware of what they are supposed to do; whether telling Katniss my name is going cause more harm than it would good.

"What was his name?" Katniss hollers, becoming more and more agitated.

Now I am on my feet, my hands pressed up against the glass.

"Uh..." Finnick stammers, thinking of something to say.

"Tell me!" Katniss is yelling and slams her fist onto the table.

Haymitch is motioning for the doctors to be sent into the room, probably to sedate her. Others are yelling orders and ideas of what should be done about this issue. Doctors are standing up and rushing out of the room, some feverishly writing notes onto clipboards when we hear Prim say it.

"His name is Peeta."

The entire room is silent again. My heart feels like it has dropped into my chest and it somehow feels like I have forgotten to breathe. I can see that Finnick's eyes are widening, like he too cannot believe what Prim has just said. Prim stands in front of Katniss looking unsure but calm.

However, the most surprising reaction comes from Katniss herself. She is frozen; she is not thrashing or yelling whatsoever. Yet, her eyes are as black as coal. Then I begin to notice that familiar twitch in her hands that slowly works its way up her body.

"Prim, he is evil!" Katniss finally exclaims, keeping her body still. "He tried to kill me- he will hurt you."

I can see that Katniss is just trying to protect her sister from something that she sees as a threat, something she has been trying to do her entire life.

"But he's not, Katniss." Prim pleads. "He's genuine and kind."

Katniss is standing now and almost her entire body is trembling.

"Did he tell you that? That's what he wants you to think! He is evil, Prim! A mutt! A Capitol mutt!" She is almost yelling now.

"No, Katniss- Peeta is not…" Finnick begins.

"He is talking to you too?" Katniss questions. "You can't speak to him; he will kill us all! I hate him! He is evil!" Her yell has turned into scream as she curls her hands into tight fists, tugging on Finnick's gray shirt.

"Katniss, please!" Prim is pleading with her and I notice the tears that are beginning to fall from her eyes.

"I hate him! He is a mutt! An evil mutt!" Katniss continues until a team of doctors are forced to enter. They drag Finnick and a crying Prim out, she is still trying to tell Katniss that I am not a mutt. However, this time even Prim's words are not getting through to her. Katniss is screaming horrible profanities about me until a single doctor finally sedates her.

It is not until Katniss goes silent that I realize that I am crying. The tears have soaked my cheeks and are streaming down onto my shirt. I realize at this moment how severe her hijacking was. Whether or not she loved me, is not for me to answer or assume. Yet, something I know to be true is that Katniss trusted me. I was fortunate enough to be one of the few people she could tell almost anything to. But now, she fears me with everything in her. _He's a mutt. I hate him_. Her words were so simple, yet they are enough to ruin me.

The tears continue to fall as I watch the girl I love lie lifeless in front of me. The girl I fell in love with is so far away, lost deep inside herself somewhere. But she is there. Somewhere.

* * *

**Hope you guys enjoyed this one! I hope you feel like you just want to give Peeta and big hug because I do! To be honest, I think seeing Katniss hijacked would have been more painful for him then actually going though it himself! Make sure to leave me a comment and tell me your thoughts! I will see you all soon XOX**


	16. Chapter 15

I am ordered away from Katniss' _cell_ and into an observation area quickly after her breakdown. Haymitch tells me that I will have to spend three entire days away from the area. It takes him close to an hour to convince me to agree to this and I am still not one hundred percent sure I am alright with the idea. He explains to me that Katniss needs some recovery time; how the doctors need to make a plan for her, and how they are going to incorporate me back into her life. Haymitch also tells me how I am of no use to Katniss if I am not healthy myself. Since her return, I have lost close to ten pounds and I'm usually not getting more than three hours of sleep at night. It is hard to be away from her when I know how vulnerable she is right now and knowing just how close she is to me.

This morning, I allow myself to sleep in considering I am not allowed in the _cell_ area anyways. But eventually, my nightmares become too much, so I force myself to rise. I march myself down to the dining hall for lunch and sit myself at an open table across from Gale. He is sitting alone and I notice how Prim is nowhere to be seen. I instantly wonder if she is with Katniss already.

"Have you heard anything?" I ask Gale, placing my tray of steaming oats down in front of me.

Gale takes a long drink of his water and nods his head. "I was actually allowed to see her this morning."

His statement makes me choke on my food. "They let you into her room?"

"Yeah, they asked me actually." He begins. "Apparently she requested to see me."

I begin to wonder if this is why Haymitch banned me from the area, because he knew it would be difficult for me to watch Gale and Katniss together again. The thought makes me angry and I feel myself clenching my fists.

"How was she?" I ask hesitantly.

"She was alright," Gale begins. "You could tell she was not really sure of herself, or of me."

"Did she…remember things?" I question.

"Yes actually, she remembered hunting." He replies with the slightest smile.

A pang of jealousy hits me because I so desperately wish she could recall of some positive association with me.

"She started becoming a little coarse towards the end, so they asked me to leave…but they said it was probably her biggest milestone yet." He adds.

I know Gale is not trying to make me feel upset or inferior to him, but it is hard not to let his words have that effect on me. It is just difficult to put into words the way I feel about this situation. I think I have realized that the greater the love, the greater the tragedy. Gale and I both have similar goals; we both love Katniss and want to bring her back to herself. However, I feel like he's not aware of how different our circumstances are. He was just able to visit Katniss face to face, while when hearing my name, Katniss will have a mental breakdown. So instead, I choose to remain silent because sometimes it's better to stay silent than to tell others what you feel because it hurts when you come to know that they can hear you, but cannot understand.

* * *

I am called down to Command after dinner and I watch the recorded footage of Gale and the crew in District 2. I watch Gale take out the district's mountain that stores Capitol military supplies. Not many people survived that attack. I almost cringe at the footage because I can't help but feel like it was an unnecessary attack to take out all those innocent people inside, but I don't dare speak of it.

At the end of the footage, Gale stands in the rubble and begins to speak. "The rebels are not your enemy! We all have one enemy and it's the Capitol! This is our chance to put an end to their power, but we need every district to do it!" The cameras zoom into his face. "Join us!" He hollers, you a hear gunshot in the background and the screen goes black.

Apparently that gunshot that was heard was approximately two inches from his face when fired. One step forward and Gale would have been killed.

"So Peeta, what did you think or the propo?" Plutarch asks, tapping his pen on the table. Everyone else around us seems very pleased with his performance. After all, it was probably refreshing to have some action packed footage to use. I have not really given a lot of useable action shots for these clips. I imagine Plutarch is counting down the days until he can have some actual Mockingjay footage to throw together. However, right now, Katniss is obviously not stable enough for the situation.

But I really don't know what I thought of the propo to be honest. My mind was somewhere else, not in the state to be analyzing the success of this video.

"It was nice." I reply, blankly pressing my fingers onto the table.

"Alright then…" Plutarch replies. I can hear him going on about the next steps the rebels should take, but even though I am hearing, I am truly not listening. All I can think about every minute of the day is how I can get to Katniss, when I will see her again, what I could possibly do to help make her better.

Eventually I can't take it anymore, so I stand up from the Command table and exit without even bothering to ask if I could be excused. I start dashing down the hallway because I can't take it anymore. I run and run until I am standing outside the door of her cell observation room. Perhaps I will be able to slip myself in and sit at the back before anyone could notice. Just as I put my hand onto the doorknob, it swings open. Haymitch is now standing before me with his arms across his chest. He has his typical harsh look upon his face, almost is if he knew I would be out here.

"Can I help you with something boy?" He asks, narrowing his eyes on me.

"Oh umm. . .well I was just in this area and thought I would come and you know. . .see how she's doing."

"Peeta, I know you want to see her right now…but she sure as hell does not want to see you." Haymitch was rarely one for sympathy. "You need to give these doctors some space to come up with a plan to work with her without you watching over their shoulders every minute."

"But I-"

"I'll tell you what, tomorrow morning, come down here and we will explain to you the plan for her recovery. But as of right now, the doctors are still working with her." He interrupts me.

"Can you at least tell me how she's doing?" I plead with him.

Haymitch takes in a deep breath. "She is making small improvements. We can let her eat on her own now and she did well with her first visit with Gale. But to be perfectly honest, Peeta, she is really damaged. She is frightened about a lot of things. And her confusion is so severe. She talks to herself multiple times a day, just trying to sort things together in her own mind. She is not sure whether President Snow is someone she despises or someone who is trying to save her. She can't tell if she can trust any of the doctors and her confusion for me is almost as bad as her confusion for you. However, the sad thing is I don't think that was the Capitiol's doing."

My mind tries to analyze everything he has said. But the information seems to punch me in the gut. I could not imagine not being able to tell the difference between what is true and what is not. I don't think I would be able to handle it. I understand Katniss' confusion around Haymitch because when I was pulled from the arena, I had not a clue what to think about him. It took me a long time to decide if I could trust him again.

"But what I can also tell you, that may make you feel a little better, is that she said your name for the first time today." Haymitch adds.

This catches my attention and I shift my eyes up to him, begging for him to tell me more.

"It wasn't anything too wonderful, but she was trying to sort out some of her memories of the arena, and your name came up a few times."

"Well, how did she feel about it?" I ask anxiously.

"She was pretty angry…but mostly confused. She still thinks you were trying to kill her."

I sigh and cover my face with my hands, pressing them into my face as if they could stop the tears from falling.

"But Peeta, you have to remember that when she got here she could not even hear your name without entering into a violent breakdown. The fact that it came from her own mouth, angry or not, was a large improvement."

I don't reply, simply because I have nothing to say. I have known Haymitch for a long time, and I know that when he says things like this, he is right. It's just that I can't seem to shake the fact that we should not have to be making improvements and I should not be standing outside of Katniss' _cell_ right now. She should be at home in District 12; we all should. She should be hunting and taking care of Prim. We should be living our lives in freedom and peace. I don't want to hear about her being able to eat by herself for the first time; I just want her back.

"Try to get some sleep, I'll see you tomorrow." Haymitch tells me as he turns back into the observation room, shutting the door in my face.

I walk a few steps and place my hands on the walls where her _cell_ is. Knowing that only a thin concrete wall is separating us. I press my forehead against the wall, hoping that somehow I will be able to send a message to her through it, reminding her that I am still here.

The walk back to my compartment feels like forever. My sheets are chilled without her body heat to help warm them and I miss her presence next to me. I close my eyes, hoping to catch at least a few hours of sleep.

* * *

**HELLO READERS! Have no fear, this story is still rolling forward! I am so sorry for this super long delay! But please understand that I am a University student, with a job, friends, a boyfriend, and family all to deal with right now. I can honestly say I have never been more stressed in my entire life. This is why my story has been on hold for a little while! However over the holidays I will be back on a much more regular schedule! So please be patient with me. I hope you enjoyed this chapter, I have so much more to come! Be sure to leave me a review of your thoughts and what you hope to see in future chapters. Thank you all for reading, and I will see you soon XO (FOLLOW ME ON TWITTER FOR UPDATES ON THIS STORY AND TO ALWAYS KNOW WHEN I WILL BE POSTING! - TributeGirlEm**


	17. Chapter 16

_Stay with me._

_Always._

As the morning washes over me, the sweet memory flutters its way back into my mind. Those nights when Katniss wanted me at her side, when we were both terrified to be alone. At the time, I do not think I cherished those moments as much as I should have. As humans, we never truly recognize the importance of a moment, until it only becomes a memory.

I walk out of my compartment and begin heading towards the dining hall for breakfast. I eat my meal of steaming porridge and apples in what has to be a record speed, and sprint down to the meeting about Katniss.

When I arrive, Plutarch, Haymitch, Coin, Boggs, and a group of doctors sit around the round table. Coin and the doctors all have clipboards and filing folders laid out in front of them.

"Take a seat, Peeta." Coin says pointing at the empty chair next to her and a doctor I do not recognize.

"So in regards to Miss. Everdeen, her situation is very complex and new to all of us. So her plan of care will require a lot of trial and error." One of the head doctors begins. "To begin, we understand how her greatest fears revolve around Solider Mellark. He was clearly her most targeted memory. Thus, to reverse the negative connotation surrounding Solider Mellark, our first plan is to use a very similar approach that we believe the Capitol used. We will show Katniss clips of her and Peeta together, but instead of administering tracker jacker venom, we will administer calming medicines."

Everyone around the table is nodding their heads and writing notes. I see Coin pass her clipboard to Boggs who is now writing notes for her.

"And you think that will work?" I question.

"Well, if we are being honest, we have no idea. But it seems like a pretty logical place to start. Very little knowledge is known about hijacking, so it may take some time." The doctor replies.

"When do you think I will be able to see her?" I ask.

"That depends solely on her progress." Coin informs me. "When she requests your presence, it will happen, until then you are not to enter into Miss. Everdeen's cell."

It was not like I was planning to make a break in to Katniss' room; that was never my intention. But the harshness in Coin's voice irritates me. And I can not help but notice her annoyance as the doctors explain to me Katniss' recovery plan, as if she has no desire for Katniss to get well again.

"We will allow Peeta back into the observation room tomorrow though." Haymitch chimes in.

I nod my head.

"Meeting adjourned." Coin states as she stands up and heads for the exit, Boggs following closely behind her. The doctors also stand and exit in a neat line out the main door.

The rest of us remain at the table staring at each other.

"Well, I better be going as well." Plutarch says. "I have been rather busy, planning future propos, and organizing a wedding for two victors; its difficult work."

My body instantly goes numb because he can't be serious. Katniss and I can not possibly be married right now. Sure, it would look fabulous to throw in the face of the Capitol. But Katniss is terrified of me right now. To force us into marriage would be almost crueler than the original arranged wedding that the Capitol was planning before the Quell.

I think Plutarch can sense the distraught in my face. "Oh, no, Peeta. Not your wedding- Finnick and Annie's. All you need to do is show up and be happy for them."

An instant smile spreads across my face. In District 13, things are so grey and depressing. But a wedding to celebrate the love of two people coming together to spend their lives as one, is perhaps something we all are in need of here. I am well aware of what love is. I have felt it, and I have seen it. I know it can beautiful, but it can also be tragic. Thankfully, a wedding is day to celebrate love's true beauty. I also know that this wedding will be celebrating two people who could not be more in love. Nobody who sees Finnick and Annie could ever doubt their feelings for each other.

* * *

My days to follow are a flurry of activities and events. I start off my days in the observation room with Katniss. On the first day I am allowed back in, they begin the plan of unhijacking with the calming medicines. They play a clip of Katniss and I on the beach in the Quarter Quell. At first, she is actually pretty stable. She looks upset, but she watches it without a sound. However, the moment we kiss and the kiss becomes deeper, she goes over the edge in a full blown breakdown. _He was trying to trick me. Those were lies. He never loved me. He hates me and wants to kill me. _She continues to shout until they are forced to sedate her. Her words are hard to take in because she honestly believes that I hate her and have never loved her. I want to run into her room and tell her that I have loved her every day and every minute from the first time I ever saw her. But I can't.

Eventually, they tell me that my work is done for the day and send me up to the kitchen. I have been given the task of creating Finnick and Annie's wedding cake. I think it was more the doctors request than Finnick and Annie's. It is therapeutic for me. Every day, I suffer from the effects of post-traumatic stress from the games and the constant fear that Katniss may never come back. I sit in front of the cake for hours and for those small bits in time, my mind becomes completely clear. Instead, I am focused on District 4 and bringing it alive within this cake. I create the ocean out of swirls of blue, green, and white frosting. I make sailboats floating in the distance. I take time to create small fish and pipe white icing along the borders. In the end, I stand back and realize that it is perhaps the best creation I have ever made.

* * *

On the third day of trial with the calming medicine, I finally suggest something I had been thinking of since day one.

"We can't keep showing her all these intense romantic moments between us. They are clearly overwhelming her. We have to try something simpler." I explain.

"And what do you suggest?" Asks one of the doctors.

"I want to use a clip that will help her realize that what I am saying is true and that I have always cared for her. I want to target a memory that the Capitol was not able to because it occurred way before she ever entered the Hunger Games."

I scroll through the large computer file of footage and open the file that contains the footage from the 74th Hunger Games. I scroll through the clips until I find the ones of us in the cave. Everyone looks confused because clearly the Capitol to had this footage available to them. However the deeper memories within it, they could never touch.

"I want to use the clip where I am telling Katniss about the first time I ever saw her. The Capitol couldn't have altered that memory because they were not there on that first day of kindergarten. When she hears me talking about it, hopefully she will realize that my words match up with the memory still in her mind." I explain, pulling up the clip.

"It's an intelligent idea, we can definitely try it." The doctor says.

"Also," I begin, "you have to take those restraints off of her arms and legs. How can you expect her to feel safe when she is strapped down to her bed?" I demand, pointing to Katniss.

"Then we will have no control over her if she lashes out." He responds.

"You can still keep her IV line in to administer a knockout drug if it happens. But think about it: if you were in her position, how would you react to being strapped down to a bed and forced to watch a video of someone you are terrified of?"

Everyone in the room is staring at me. No one says a word and I can tell they are really pondering my suggestions; analyzing if the risks presented are to great, or perhaps could possibly be rather beneficial.

"We will send in two nurses to remove the restraints. They will remain in her room the entire time to make sure her IV line is secure before we begin. Does everyone understand?" The doctor states sternly.

Everyone nods their heads and I take a seat in a chair that is closest to the glass. Katniss lays awake on her hospital bed, still dressed in a medical gown. Her hair is down, falling loosely on her shoulders. The two nurses sit in chairs behind Katniss' bed.

"Alright Katniss, we are going to show you another video. We are going to be right here with you and you will be completely safe. We want you to try to understand and remember everything that is being said." Says one of the nurses in the room.

She does not respond, but definitely does not look very thrilled. Suddenly, the projector screen turns on, plastering the image of my face on the back white walls. My eyes instantly turn to Katniss. She does not say anything, but I visibly see her eyes go black.

The projection shifts to her face and she begins to speak, her words echoing in the cave.

_"Peeta, you said at the interview you'd had a crush on me forever. When did forever start?"_

My face is back on the screen. When Katniss sees me again, her body starts shaking.

"Administer the calming drug." A doctor yells out.

_"Oh, let's see. I guess the first day of school." My voice begins again. "We were five. You had on a red plaid dress and your hair... it was in two braids instead of one. My father pointed you out when we were waiting to line up,"_

_"Your father? Why?" She asks_.

_"He said, 'See that little girl? I wanted to marry her mother, but she ran off with a coal miner,'" I reply._

"No! He is evil! He wants to kill us all!" Katniss exclaims and the projection continues.

_"What? You're making that up!" She says._

"He wants to hurt me! This is a lie!" She cries again.

"_No, true story," I reply. "And I said, 'A coal miner? Why did she want a coal miner if she could have had you?' And he said, 'Because when he sings...even the birds stop to listen.'"_

Suddenly, Katniss stops thrashing and hollering. At the mention of her father, she is calm. It seems to have done more for her than any calming drug. I hope that she is somehow connecting with the memories of her father and realizing that my words to her are true.

_"That's true. They do. I mean, they did," She states softly._

Katniss is now fixated on the screen. Her eyes dark, but she is still.

My voice begins again. _"So that day, in music assembly, the teacher asked who knew the valley song. Your hand shot right up in the air. She stood you up on a stool and had you sing it for us. And I swear, every bird outside the windows fell silent."_

Now that Katniss is calm, I am able to relive that memory in my head again. I even smile to myself. How at the young age of five years old, I knew that I wanted to spend my life loving this girl and giving her everything I always knew she deserved.

The screen goes black and the doctors around me look very pleased. Everyone starts applauding and slap-fiving me, telling me how fabulous of a job I have done with this idea. I feel proud of myself and for moment, even happy. That is until I look through the glass and see Katniss. She is not screaming, she is not thrashing, her eyes do not even look black anymore. They are silver and resembling normality. But now, tears are streaming silently down from them.

"Katniss, are you alright?" One of the nurses rushes to her side.

She continues to cry as she stars up at the black projector. "I'm just so confused…I think I know something, or that I am certain about my opinions of someone but then…I don't know anymore."

"Katniss, the Capitol did a lot to try to tamper with your memory. It is normal if you feel confused. We are here to help you."

"But he is evil. Why does he know that? Did he love me? No, he hates me. He wants to hurt me. But my father. And the birds. Do I like singing? I hate him."

Katniss begins to have an argument with herself as if there are two people in her brain trying to figure out what is right. The tears keep falling from her eyes and she continues her internal argument until the doctors are forced to sedate her yet again.

* * *

**Thank you to all those people who have left me such positive and patient comments. My life has been so extremely busy these days but I have also never been happier. I am in such a wonderful phase of my life and I am currently trying to enjoy it as much as I can. Please remember that I have not forgotten this story! I only ask for you to be patient with me. Feel free to leave me a comment to let me know your thoughts on this chapter and what you want to see in the future XO**


	18. Chapter 17

Since Katniss' small breakthrough with the clip in the cave, no other clip has seemed to be that successful for her. We have tried smaller moments, like us on the train; up until now I had not even realized had been filmed. Nevertheless, it did not work. Yet every time we replay the clip of us talking about the first time I ever saw her, and her dad's singing voice, she questions her feelings towards me. The doctors tell me it is a spectacular milestone because she is starting to understand that something may be wrong and also that someone has probably done something to her memory.

Today I will not be able to see Katniss, but I'm actually okay with that due to the circumstances. Today is the day that Finnick and Annie will become husband and wife. I spend my morning finishing off any last minute details of their wedding cake and help the other cooks with pastries and deserts for the wedding. They are all eager to see what I have to show them and I am grateful because again, it takes my mind off of my worries.

Plutarch and Fulvia have been planning out every little detail for the big day. It took a long time for Coin to agree to this plan because at first she was definitely not on board. In her mind, a wedding is two people signing a piece of paper and receiving a new living compartment. But Plutarch, and anyone else who has ever lived in the Capitol, has a completely different idea. He has to fight for the amount of guests that will be invited and the music that will be played. Eventually it was decided that a choir of children will sing District 4's wedding song and volunteers will help to make the decorations. It did not take long before the event became all anyone in 13 could talk about. Everyone is just so starved for something good to happen around here.

Portia has also been busy working on the outfits for the bride and groom. I am called down to the hall early to help Finnick get ready. Portia is there making final arrangements for Finnick's suit. He is wearing one of my old suits from the victory tour because here in thirteen, nothing goes to waste. However, Portia was able to work her magic and transform the suit into one that fits Finnick in every way.

"Finnick I can't even tell you how happy I am for you both." I tell him as he fastens his tie around his neck.

"Thank you Peeta," Finnick replies with a smile.

"There is no doubt in anyone's mind that you both are meant to be together. As your friend, and someone who cares for you, I want you to remember to cherish her and these moments in your life."

Finnick looks at me with his green eyes that look almost glossy as I speak. He reaches out and grabs my shoulder and pulls me in for an embrace. For awhile, we just stand there holding each other. Finnick and I have a lot of things in common. We both have had beautiful, yet tragic loves. However, right now, Finnick's love is quite beautiful.

When Annie walks down the aisle, she honestly takes my breath away. She looks so beautiful and when I realize that she is dressed in one of Katniss' victory tour dresses, I become emotional. It is a soft green dress that Katniss wore in District 5. The last time I saw it, it was draped upon her body standing next to me; her hand tangled with mine. Now I see Annie and she too is beautiful; the way she is looking at Finnick is as if there is nobody else left in the world. There doesn't have to be, they are all each other needs.

There are unique touches of District 4 throughout the entire ceremony. A net woven from long grass covers them during their vows instantly reminds me of Mags. They touch each other's lips with salt water to symbolize the ocean and finally there is an ancient wedding song, which compares marriage to a sea voyage. The ceremony ends with a kiss between the couple and everyone cheers and claps. Every person in the room is happy for this new couple.

Suddenly, a fiddler plays a tune that turns every head from District 12. It may have been the poorest District in all of Panem, but we know how to dance, well most of us do anyways. Greasy Sae grabs Gale's hand and the pair twirls around on the center of the dance floor. Soon others pour out and join them. I realize that I too cannot sit back and let Snow miss me dancing. Plutarch will be filming propos throughout the event and him seeing me happy and unbroken will be a great slap in the face.

I spot Prim in the crowd and walk my way over to her. "May I have this dance, Miss Everdeen?"

She giggles at my proper and sophisticated voice, but takes my hand as I reach it out to her. Together we spin around the dance floor following the traditional steps that we have learned throughout our years in District 12. Prim is a great dancer, much better than I. She has always been very talented for such a young girl. We also end up teaching the steps to the District 13 guests and insist on a special number for the bride and groom. Everyone is eager to show off his or her footwork. Nothing joyful or fun has occurred in so long. This could go on all night. However, Plutarch has one final propo planned; a surprise I was not even aware of.

A group of people set up a speaker system in the hall and Finnick and Annie are called to the center.

"We have a very special song for the new couple created by a very special person." Plutarch announces. He presses a bottom and the sound of soft music fills the room. The voice of the singer however seems to stop not only my feet, but my heart as well. It is a voice I could recognize anywhere and at any time. Katniss is singing sweet and soft melodies that are echoing through the entire hall.

"She recorded it this morning." Haymitch mentions, elbowing me softly in the side.

I look at Mrs. Everdeen, Prim, Gale; all of us have the same expression. Her voice sounds so real and normal, no one would be able to guess that she was a victim of hijacking.

"She started singing again after seeing you talk about her father's voice in the clip we showed her."

I wipe the tear from my eye because the combination of hearing her singing voice and watching Finnick and Annie gracefully dance to it is so unbelievably overwhelming, but in such a great way. It gives me hope that she is indeed getting better and the energy to carry on with her road to recovery.

"Peeta, I know this is probably not what you were expecting. I mean all of us were not even sure about it at first . . .but she says she wants to see you." Haymitch adds pulling me from my thoughts.

I take a deep breath to keep myself from running out the door and into her room immediately. I have been waiting for this moment ever since she has returned, my chance to speak with her face to face; for her to hear my voice and see that I have never meant to harm her. However, I force myself to take another deep breath to keep from dashing off to her room. My relationship with Katniss must be very neutral right now. No kisses, no hugs, not even a handshake. I can't touch or say anything that implies a romantic inclination. Anything of that nature could set her off. Yet the fact that she has requested my presence is an elating feeling.

Haymitch keeps his eyes on me. "If you want to think about it then-"

"No, I'm going now. I have waited long enough."

"I know." He replies. "I just. . .I don't want you to get your hopes up. She's different now, Peeta."

I lift my eyes to meet his gaze. "She's in there somewhere Haymitch, and I will find her.

At _midnight_ I am standing outside the door to her room. I instantly begin to wish that I could meet with Katniss privately; without all of the doctors and specialist behind the glass recording every move we make. Katniss and I have spent so much of our relationship in front of an audience that I long for the days where that will not happen anymore. Finally, Haymitch gives me the okay in my earpiece and I slowly enter into her room.

Her silver eyes are the first thing I see, so radiant when they are not turned to black. They lock on me instantly. I convinced the doctors to remove the restraints on her arms. However, they insisted on inserting a small chip into her arm that is controlled by the doctors. When they activate it, she will be knocked out instantly. She is lying propped up on her hospital bed and she does not fight or attack me. Yet there is no escaping the weary look inside her eyes. I thought before I entered this room that I would have some speech worked up to tell her; one that was not overbearing but would assist me in getting my point across. However, when I see her face, my words vanish from my mouth.

"Hi," is the only thing that comes out.

"Hi." She responds. It is her voice and it has always been beautiful to me. However now, there is something a little different inside of it; an edge of suspicion and reproach.

"Haymitch said you wanted to talk." I begin still unsure of what to say. "It's really good to see you. How are you. . .feeling?"

She doesn't respond, but instead just stares at me as if wondering if I will transform into a blood-thirsty mutt in front of her very own eyes.

"Well for starters, look at you. You're not very tall." She exclaims.

I chuckle because I am so caught off guard.

"And not particularly attractive compared to the last one who visited me." She adds before I can even respond.

Gale. I know instantly she is referring to Gale.

"Yeah. Well….um, we have all been through a lot I guess." I manage to get out. Words are my gift and I have always had the ability to use them so wisely, but with Katniss right now they are absent.

"You've been though a lot?" She questions.

"Not as much as you." I reply.

"Well, I'm pretty sure you're the reason this all happened to me, right?"

I don't think she means to be referring it in the way I perceive it to be. She means that I have done _this_ to her, I have done this to her brain, which of course I did not do. The Capitol did this to her under President Snow's control. However, I realize that this was done to her because of me. She was hijacked to be used as a weapon against me, so in a way this is my fault. I can't lie to her now, so instead I slightly nod my head.

"Peeta time to get out of there." Haymitch says in my earpiece.

"Look Katniss, I know that I'm not someone you want to see right now. I know that I am probably the last person on earth you want to be talking to. I know that I frighten you and I know that I confuse you. But I need you to know that I could never hurt you. Whenever you need to speak with me, I will be waiting for you."

Her eyes narrow at me. I can tell that I have said too much.

"Peeta get out now!" Haymitch hollers.

I turn waiting to hear her begin screaming profanities at me as I exit her room, but instead, I only hear silence. Just as my hand connects with the doorknob, I hear her voice and it stops me.

"Peeta. I remember the bread."

The bread. The bakery bread I threw to her when we were nothing but children; our one moment of real interaction before the games.

"What do you remember?" I ask softly, taking a few steps back to her direction.

"You. On the bakery steps." She replies gently. "Me…selling baby clothes and searching through your trash bins. Starving. You…throwing me bread.

I can't help but smile and my eyes instantly become glossy.

"That's right, Katniss. That's exactly what happened." I say. "I tried to muster up the nerve to speak to you after that, but I just never could."

"I think I remember picking a dandelion." She says, a little unsure.

"You did!" I exclaim. My voice cracks as I hold back my tears, not wanting to cry in front of her.

"You must have loved me a lot."

I can't help it anymore, the tears stream down my eyes. I am an even mixture of bliss and heartbreak. "I did Katniss, and I still do. I have loved you everyday since I first saw you in your red plaid dress and your braided hair."

I am careful not to overdo my words, even though I'm sure I already have. I just have so much more I could say.

Katniss is silent for a moment; she just stares, tasting my words. "And did I love you?"

"A lot of people tell me that you did…but you never really told me." I explain to her

"That's not a good answer." She tells me. "I don't know what to think when they show me some of those tapes. In the first arena, it looks like you were trying to kill me by teaming up with those Careers…but later there was a lot of kissing."

"We were allies, Katniss."

"What about Gale?" She adds. "That can't be alright with him."

"I don't think you ever wanted our permission." I reply.

Suddenly, Katniss lifts her hands to the side of her temples and presses them into her head. Her eyes close and open again rapidly. I can see that they are turning darker and darker.

"Katniss are you alright?" I call out, rushing to her side. "Stay with me!"

I grab her shoulder and reach for her hand.

"Don't touch me!" She screams. "Help! Help! He's trying to kill me!

She stands and raises her fist to me, attempting to knock me out. I duck once and just as she goes to kick me in the gut, the medicine kicks in and she passes it- knocked out instantly.

I reach for her hand anyways and hold it between my fingers. It is cold and clammy, but I don't care. I hold onto to it as if my life depends on it and rest my head onto her chest, my tears streaming onto her gown. I stay there for a few seconds until I notice the sound of her heartbeat from underneath me. It sounds the same as it always has. This is Katniss. No matter what the Capitol has done to her, this is the same girl I have always known. Her heart is still beating the same way it always has and I will not stop trying to make her remember. This is Katniss.

* * *

**IM BACK! I missed all of my readers so much. I have also missed writing extremely! If you are still here and reading thank you so much! I know I have been away for a long time but I am back. I have another chapter that I will hopefully have up tomorrow! I can't wait to share the rest of this story with you all! Please leave me a comment and share your thoughts! XO **


	19. Chapter 18

Enraged. That's what I feel when Haymitch comes and visits me this morning to tell me the news. I fly down the steps to Command, my head spinning with the possibilities of what he has informed me moments ago. I burst into the war meeting without even bothering for permission.

"What do you mean, you're thinking about sending her into the Capitol? You know the state she's in, she can't possibly handle a violent situation like that without having an episode!" I shout.

Coin barely even bothers to look up from her screen. "The main value of rescuing Soldier Everdeen was to have her as the face of this rebellion. She is starting to comprehend the fact that Snow is her real enemy."

"Are you out of your mind? She will get killed, or kill someone herself!" I scream. "I can go for her! I've been the face of the rebels anyways."

"I'm sorry Peeta, but the position of the Mockingjay was not designed for you. It was designed for Katniss and I intend to carry through with that plan." She tells me. "And besides, I'm not very sure you're fit for combat yourself. You have not really been much help to the cause lately."

"We all know you're smart and a great speaker, Peeta, but we need soldiers in the field. You haven't been to one training session and are probably not at your physical peak." Boggs butts in.

"But you think Katniss is?" I exclaim.

"Of course she's not." Coin replies defensively. "She will be used as a face for the camera instead of a front line fighter."

"But she can't go. I have to go." I say quietly. I attempt to view this situation from Boggs point. An average seventeen year old boy who can't even quite catch his breath from running down the halls. Someone who spends every living moment in a dark observation room watching Katniss feed herself pudding for the first time. Dishevelled. Unstable. Not a solider, but someone who needs to be looked after.

"Why?" Coin bluntly asks.

Her steel eyes are trained on me as if she is looking into the depths of my soul. I fight with myself not to cower from her stare.

"Because they destroyed my district. They murdered my family. He made the only person I had left to love in this world fear me with everything inside of her. And besides, you need a face for the camera during this war and I'm the best mouth you have."

The president thinks about this for a moment. I am rather surprised at how quickly she decides. "Well, you have three weeks. It's not long, but you can begin training. If the Assignment Board believes you're capable, your case will be reviewed."

That's it. It is the most I can hope for. I feel like I am back in my first arena, trying to protect Katniss from it. Some things never change.

I have been blowing off my schedule everyday since Katniss' return, however I understand now that I can no longer get away with it. If Coin is going to consider sending me into combat instead of Katniss, I need to be following the rules.

I make my way back to my compartment because it's late and there is no point in training now. Just as I'm about to enter my room, Johanna Mason slips herself in front of my door. We are now standing face to face; her nose only a few inches from mine. The smirk on her face is clear. Johanna lives right across from me, but I haven't seen her very much. Like Finnick and I, her compartment is only a step away from the hospital. Mentally unstable victors are kept on close watch here in 13.

"Blowing off your schedule again, Mellark?" She questions in a somewhat seductive voice.

I roll my eyes jokingly, "I learn from the best."

I must admit, it is nice seeing Johanna out and about. She was by far the most physically hurt after returning from the Capitol. She has refused to discuss much of her torture with anyone here, so no one really knows what went on. She was out of it for a good few days after her return. She was released from the hospital just in time for Finnick and Annie's wedding.

"I have to get to bed though, I have training tomorrow." I add.

Johanna begins to laugh. "Training? Training for what?"

"Combat training for the Capitol. I want to be there when the rebels invade."

Johanna gives me a confused look, clearly knowing that this is not something I would normally volunteer myself to do.

"Maybe you can train too." I blurt out before she can ask me anything else.

"Fine. I'll train. But I'm going to the stinking Capitol if I have to kill the crew and fly there myself," she says.

"Probably best not to bring that up in training," I reply. "But it's nice to know I have a ride."

I wink at her and she grins. I somehow feel a slight, yet significant shift in our relationship. I don't know if she would consider us friends or not; it's difficult to understand what's going on inside of her head.

The next morning, Johanna and I report for training at 7:30AM. I force myself to avoid the floor where Katniss' room is because I do not need any temptation to miss training. I remind myself of the greater picture and how I will be doing her a bigger favour by taking her place in the Capitol.

As the training begins, reality slaps me in the face. We have been placed in a class of beginners; soldiers from the ages fourteen to fifteen. At first, I was insulted, but it was hard to be upset when I am rather under par with their abilities. Johanna is even worse than I am, clearly the weakest in the group. However, given her circumstances, I say she is doing pretty well. Gale and the other Capitol bound soldiers train in a private area away from us of course. Our training plan is simple: a few hours of strengthening exercise, which I excel in compared to the younger soldiers even though I had lost a lot of my strength within these last few weeks. It does not compare to the years of muscle I've built up at the bakery. We finish off with a five-mile run, which is where I discover how out of shape I really am. At first I am strong, but after the first mile, I find myself struggling for air. Johanna attempts to encourage me despite her own struggles, but we end up walking the last two miles.

That night, my body aches with pain. I lie in bed staring at the ceiling, trying not to move my body because everything hurts. But I fight it because I know that I do not have a choice. I need to protect Katniss and that idea alone helps numb my pain.

* * *

By three in the morning, I understand that I will not be getting much sleep tonight. My mind is too wild to allow me any such rest. I end up rising out of bed and taking a night-time stroll down the hall. Since Annie has returned, I no longer have Finnick to visit during the night. Finnick is happy; he has everything he needs sleeping within his arms right now. I'm not sure where my feet will take me because I have no set destination. Instead, I just allow myself to wander the chilled hallways. It is no surprise that I find myself in front of Katniss' room. I am, however, surprised to see that the only person standing outside of her room, is Haymitch.

"Shouldn't you be getting some sleep?" I ask, forcing him to turn around and face me.

The lights are off so he squints his eyes to see me better. "I could be saying the same thing about you, boy. She had a difficult day today, Peeta. Coin has her training one on one and holding a bow. It's been hard."

"She forgets how to hunt?" I ask as a sickening feeling creeps over my body.

"No, of course not. That's hardwired into her brain; she'll never forget that." Haymitch begins. "It's just . . .she remembers the games now and using it to kill people. It's taking a toll on her."

"Oh."

"She had a few moments today where she went off screaming, but she was angry at President Snow. We think she is starting to understand that he is behind this." Haymitch explains.

The two of us are quiet for a moment, silently processing everything that is happening. Katniss understands so much now. She is really starting to make improvements, yet she still hates me. And for that, I can never forgive President Snow.

"I need to see her, Haymitch."

"I know." He replies.

* * *

I am instructed not to wake her, but am given permission through Haymitch to enter her room. If anyone understands this request, it would be Haymitch because he loves Katniss too. And he also understands the type of love that I have for her and how excruciating it is for me to deal with this everyday. I cannot look at her, speak to her, hold her or kiss her. All of these things have been ripped away from me, ripped away from her. Suddenly, I recall the last time I kissed Katniss or had any meaningful conversation with her. It was during the Quarter Quell where both of us were being hunted down every minute of everyday. I wish now that I would have told her I loved her again when we separated or savoured her lips just a little more as she pressed them to mine before walking away. But I didn't, and now I'm not sure if I will ever kiss this girl again.

I enter her room as quietly as I can because I do not dare to wake her. Not only due to the fact that she could attack me once she knows of my presence, but also, with one look at this sleeping girl, I can tell she does not get much of it. The purple rims below her closed eyes are prominent. I know she must fight off nightmares every single day. I have an intense urge to cuddle up beside her and hold her when she wakes, thrashing from her terrors. However, I remind myself that it is me who is now terrorizing her dreams. Waking up to that terror itself would only destroy her.

So instead, I keep my distance. I stand a good five meters from her bedside, watching her chest rise and fall. For the most part, she seems relatively peaceful right now. I can't help but notice how beautiful she is. I used to lie awake for hours in awe of her beauty during slumber. It softens her harsh edges and makes her look so young and so gentle. Right now, she looks just like she always has to me. She looks the way she used to look on the train, sleeping safely. She is so beautiful. Everything about my life makes sense when I look at Katniss. I need her. I have always been a sucker for beautiful things. I assume that is why I never could resist the sound of her laughter or the way her eyes sparkled when she smiled. She is so beautiful.

After close to a half an hour, I know my time with her is up. Haymitch will be waiting for me to leave this area because I'm sure that I'm really not even supposed to be allowed in here. Before I leave, I walk up to her bedside as quietly as I can. I know that I shouldn't be doing this, but I can't help myself. She is so close to me. She is so beautiful. With the lightest touch I can create, as if touching her with delicate butterfly wings, I move a lose strand of hair away from her face. My thumb sweeps across her warm cheek and I feel her skin against mine. Maybe I was only imagining it out of some false hope of mine, but I swear she smiles at me in her sleep. It is not prominent, but I watch the corners of her mouth curve upwards slightly and her face softens even more. And suddenly, it is if in this moment, in this small fraction of time, things are okay again.

* * *

I wake at dawn the next morning and find that I had no nightmares. I can't help but think that it is due to seeing Katniss last night in such a peaceful state.

Eventually I escort myself to Johanna's room. After multiple attempts at knocking, I burst through the door, finding her still asleep in her bed.

"Johanna wake up, we have training." I plead, gently shaking her shoulder with the palm of my hand.

She rolls over and groans. "I can't do it."

"You can do it. We both can. We're victors, remember? We're the ones who can survive anything they throw at us." I reply trying to convince her. I know Johanna is tired and probably pretty sore from the previous day. However, the selfish side of me takes over because I truthfully don't want to go through all of this alone. Having her beside me helps to remind me that I am doing this for a greater cause. It gives me motivation to stay in training instead of running off to Katniss' room.

* * *

When we arrive above ground for our run, it is pouring rain. I glance towards Johanna and instantly believe that she is going to pass out.

"Johanna, are you alright?" I question with concern.

She doesn't answer for a moment, but instead keeps her glare focused on the rain.

"It's just water... I'll be fine."

She is not fine. The water pours down onto our bodies and she attempts to trek through the sticky mud. After a mile, we bail because I am genuinely concerned that Johanna is going to slip into unconsciousness. During lunch, I myself have to force down my lunch of soggy fish. Johanna gets about halfway through her bowl before it all comes back up again. In the afternoon, we work on assembling guns. I manage it, but Johanna cannot seem to keep her hands steady. When York looks away, I assist her. Even though the rain does not stop, the afternoon is more relaxed because we are simply on the shooting range. By the end of the class, I have the second best shot in the group, which in my book is a fairly large accomplishment. Johanna on the other hand is physically shaking. At first, I assume it is from the cold rain, but it was extremely warm out and the rain was not chilled at all. I invite her to come back to my compartment for a while because I am concerned about leaving her alone. I try to analyze why she is agitated about the rain, but nothing makes sense.

I excuse myself to take a quick shower and return to find her inspecting the drawer of all my personal belongings. When she sees me, she shuts it quickly. "Sorry."

I think about how there must be nothing in Johanna's drawer besides her government issued clothes. She was never allowed like myself to return to her district to take any belongings of hers, and even if she were, would she have anything to take?

"You don't have to be sorry, Johanna." I reply. "You can look if you want."

I see her studying the contents of the drawer. I still have a few items that I took from Katniss' home to give back to her. "This is her-"

"Yeah," I reply, "I couldn't leave it behind." It's hard talking about Katniss because the subject always threatens to break me. That is the wonderful thing about training. It is allowing me to help to take my mind away from her.

"Haymitch says she's getting better," she says.

"She is...but she's changed." I shock myself with these words because it is the first time I truly recognized that fact that the Capitol took the girl I loved and hid her so far within herself, making her someone almost unrecognizable.

Johanna chuckles. "So have you. So have I. Finnick, and Haymitch and Beetee. Don't get me started on Annie Cresta. The arena messed us all up pretty good, don't you think? Or do you still feel like the frightened little boy from your first games?

I only shake my head. Somehow Johanna's words are reaching me when no one else's seemed to. I know she is right. I am so different then I was during my first games. Tragedy has aged me way beyond my years. I need to stop looking at Katniss as the only one who is different, because we all are. We are all broken.

That's the one thing my head doctor might be right about. There's no going back. So we might as well get on with things.

By the time I am ready for bed, I think of how it will be a miracle if Johanna and I can get up the next morning because our bodies are so worn. But we do, each day. I also am not getting as much sleep at night because my annual trips to visit Katniss while she sleeps are becoming a habit. Haymitch doesn't even question me about it anymore. Instead, he takes the time to sleep; fully knowing that I would be here to protect Katniss if something was to arise.

By the end of the week, Johanna and I are stronger. We can complete each run and Johanna can now assemble her gun on her own. Solider York gives us both an approving nod. "Fine job, soldiers."

We both smile as we exit training for the day.

"I think winning the games was easier." Johanna jokes.

When we arrive in the dining hall for dinner, Gale waves us over, and everyone seems to be happy aswelll. Finnick, Annie, and a few other citizens sit around the table.

"First shipments of food arrived this morning," Greasy Sae tells me, handing me a bowl of beef stew. "That's real beef from District Ten."

The smell of the food is making my mouth water. Flavourful, hot food has become rare in District 13, so this meal only adds to everyone's high spirits. I am also glad to see Finnick doing so well. He seems to be much more like his old self again. His charm and self-effacing humour are on display for the first time in what seems like ages. However, through everything, he never lets go of Annie's hand. Sometimes she looks rather lost in her own thoughts; a look of bliss usually graced upon her face. Every once in awhile, something will slip into her brain and attempt to drag her back into darkness. But a few words from Finnick always bring her back.

I listen to the others talk during dinner, which is rare for me. But this meal is so delicious that I can only savour it. All around the dining room, people are smiling and chatting away during their meals. It is amazing how a solid meal can have such a positive impact on people. Eventually, I can't help but chime in with the laughter and conversation as Finnick tells some absurd story of a turtle swimming away with his hat.

"I'm surprised you didn't try to swim after-"

And there she is. Standing directly across the table behind an empty seat next to Gale. My eyes instantly reach her, as if that is what they have always been trained to do. I try not to choke on my food.

"Catnip!" Gale exclaims. "It's good to see you out…and about."

Two large guards stand behind her. She is holding her tray awkwardly on her fingertips while her wrists are shackled together. I have an instant urge to command the guards to unchain her, but I also know that this is most likely the first time she has been allowed to exit her unit. I feel guilty that I have missed all of this. Clearly a lot has been going on if she has been given permission to eat with the general public.

"What's with the fancy bracelets?" asks Johanna.

I instantly shoot her a dark glare.

"I'm not yet trustworthy, apparently." Katniss states. "I'm not even allowed to sit here without your permission."

"Sure you can sit here. We're old friends, brainless," says Johanna, patting the seat in between her and Gale. The guard nods and she takes a seat. "Katniss and I had adjoining cells in the Capitol. We're very familiar with each other's screams.

This time Gale and I both glare at her.

"What? My head doctor says I'm not supposed to censor my thoughts. It's part of my therapy," replies Johanna.

"I'm glad you're here, Catnip." Gale says softly to her, placing his hand upon her shoulder.

Katniss smiles back at him. It is a small smile, but a genuine one all the same. I can tell that she has put her trust back into him again. No, it's probably not what it was before, but it's there. There was very little footage of Gale for the Capitol to use against her, so it was no surprise to anyone that she is comfortable with her hunting partner again.

I notice how Finnick is speaking soft words into Annie's ear, attempting to her bring back to the real world after Johanna's hard comments. I know that I need to say something. I cannot sit back and ignore Katniss as she sits before us; no matter how apparent she is to me.

"Annie," I say happily, "did you know that it was Katniss who sang your wedding song? She has a beautiful singing voice." I look at her briefly, not wanting to stare too intensely at her. She is looking back at me. She is not smiling, but instead just looks intrigued.

Annie cautiously looks across the table. "Thank you Katniss, it was lovely."

"You're welcome, Annie." Katniss responds, and I hear that old tone of voice that that I thought for awhile would be gone; that graceful and strong voice that only belonged to Katniss. Not that hoarse and violent tone I heard when she first arrived here, that was not her. This voice however, this is Katniss.

Soon after, Finnick and Annie leave the table to go for a walk, leaving Johanna, Gale, Katniss, and myself behind.

I notice how Katniss has slid herself to become closer to Gale in her chair. I know he is a source of familiarity to her right now, but it is hard to push away the jealously. Eventually his hand moves towards her and rests upon the top of her knee. I force myself to breathe instead of saying anything. This is what she needs, I tell myself. So even when she moves her hand to rest upon his own, I keep my mouth quiet.

"So, how have you been feeling Katniss?" I finally ask to draw my mind away from those thoughts.

She doesn't respond at first. I can see her silver eyes studying me, trying to make sense of who I am and what I mean to her.

"Um, I don't know. Everyone tells me how great I'm doing but…"

"But what Katniss?" Gale asks.

"I...I have a lot of memories that I can't make sense of. A lot that the Capitol didn't touch." I can see her eyes glancing at me again.

"Well, everyone is here to help you Katniss." I add before anyone else can.

She lifts her head this time so everyone can clearly see that she is staring directly at me. "A lot of nights on the train for instance."

I see Gale stiffen in his seat and watch Johanna's eyes widen with curiosity. I know my reaction is most prominent. I am at a loss for words again because of this woman before me. She has rendered me speechless because of a simple sentence. I know this is something I cannot discuss with her here. These memories are for her and I only; they are private and are something that needs to be explained to her by me and without an audience.

"Katniss...can we talk about this some other time?" I ask as gently as I possibly can.

Her eyes sharpen and her face becomes colder. "Why do you keep trying to get me alone?"

"Katniss, I just want to talk to you." I say, even though her words are breaking me. She still does not trust me; her fears for me are still eminent.

"I'm sure you do." She sarcastically snaps back. What hurts me the most is that she is almost implying that I would somehow sexually hurt her. That thought alone threatens tears pouring over my eyes. Katniss was…Katniss is so pure and modest and I always respected that in her. I cherished the times I was with her and never even thought about asking her for more then she was ever willing to give. Our relationship was complicated and the situation, even more so. What we did have was based on innocence. It was based on the fact that we needed each other's arms to guard off nightmares, and nothing more than that. I would never hurt this woman in any way.

Suddenly, Katniss turns to Gale and she links her arm into his. "Can we go now?"

He turns to her and I can tell he too is not really sure what he should say or do. But eventually he nods his head, listening to her request. She does not want to be near me. Before they leave, Gale turns to me with sympathetic eyes; there is nothing I can do. Together, they walk away, arms still linked together; guards still behind them.

I don't move from my spot at the table all day. People come and go, some try to speak to me, but I don't respond. I have become a mental Avox again. Greasy Sae even puts a plate of food in front of me, but I don't eat; I can't eat. I am somewhat scared that people from the hospital are going to come and get me, but I can't seem to make myself care.

It isn't until Johanna and Gale come back into the room and sit across from me that I force myself to speak.

"I didn't expect that." Gale states.

"She hates me." I reply in a hushed tone.

"Peeta, believe me…as one of Katniss' oldest friends, I can tell you that she is not seeing you for who you truly are."

"Peeta, Katniss lost her temper shortly after walking away with Gale." Johanna adds.

I look up at them. "What did she do?"

"She started arguing with herself like she was two different people." He begins. "One moment she was telling herself that she trusts you...and another moment, we're pretty sure she said she missed you. But then she would go on yelling about how you were a mutt and are trying to hurt her. The guards had to pull her away."

We are silent for a while, so I take in everything that I have heard. And then, I finally ask, "Johanna, could you really hear her screaming?"

"That was part of it." She begins. I can tell she is not sure if she should continue. But in usual Johanna fashion, she does. "Like the jabberjays in the arena. Only it was real. And it didn't stop after an hour."

Tick Tock. Roses. Mutts. Portia. Braided hair. Pearls. Dead Tributes. Me. Her.

Everything screams in my dreams tonight.

* * *

**Thank you all for reading! It means a lot to me. Please be sure to leave me a comment because I love to know your thoughts. Also, there is something that needs to be addressed again. I have said it from the very start and will say it again. I left the title of this story_ MOCKINGJAY_: Katniss' Hijacking because this story is Mockingjay! Much of it comes right from Suzanne Collins book and I gave her this credit in my very first chapter! The differences are that Peeta and Katniss have switched roles. The plot is the same and much of the words from other character are the same! Yes there is a lot that was changed to accommodate the swap, but I give the HUGE majority of this stories credit to Suzanne because this is 99% her plot. If you do not like that I have many other stories for you to check out. Thanks for your comments XO**


	20. Chapter 19

Seeing Katniss the way she was yesterday only reminds me of how there is no possible way I can allow her to enter the Capitol streets in combat. She wasn't allowed to eat a meal by herself without restraints on her wrists, so how could she possibly handle war? Coin must understand this; she's a smart women. Her intelligence scares me.

* * *

I throw myself back into training with the help of Johanna. As we arrive to class today, we find out that we have been moved to a higher-level class, which gives me hope that I will get to take Katniss' place.

Today we are working on a simulation-training device known as the Block. It allows us to experience different scenarios and practice what we would do during each event. Deep down, you know that it is all fake and nobody is really going to die, but I admit- the sound of gunshots still frightens me and seeing anybody slam lifelessly to the ground will always haunt me. During our training for the Block, we experience landmines and smoke bombs, which Johanna and I navigate remarkably well. They even gas us, and the two of us are the only pair that can get our masks secured on time. When we finish the scenarios, I feel very proud of myself.

When we move to the firing range, Gale and Finnick are there to greet us, followed by Cresida and her team.

"It's part of a new series we will be filming about the rebels preparing for combat in the Capitol." Cressida explains.

I'm instantly elated. Surely this means I will be going into combat if they are willing to film my preparation for it and air the footage for all to see. Because of this, my shooting is at its all time best, even comparable to Gale at times. I am very impressed with myself and even the filming team gives me a small clap when I obliterate the center ring on my target. Everything seems to be going pretty well.

The last part of the day includes a weight workout, which I always excel in. I walk over to the weight area with Finnick, listening to him chat about Annie and his new life as a married man, when something interrupts us.

"There is no way you're leaving these on me during a workout. I won't be able to do anything."

I hear her voice and my head instantly snaps back to find where it is coming from.

Katniss is standing in District 13 issued clothing, facing two guards and Plutarch, pointing at her wrists. I watch one of the guards hand Plutarch a key and he unchains Katniss from the shackles. She rubs her raw arms.

I try to force myself to remain calm because I do not understand what Katniss is doing here. She needs to be in her room with the doctors, working on ways to rehabilitate herself. She walks over to a rack of weights with the guard's eyes still fixated on her. She tries to lift an 8lbs weight, but her arm is too weak and it drops to the floor. She has lost so much strength. I want to run to her and help her, but instead my feet take off in the direction of Plutarch.

"What the hell is she doing in here?" I yell just loud enough so Katniss can't hear. "Do you know how dangerous this could be for her?"

Plutarch laughs. "Oh Peeta, its just for the cameras, don't worry so much. We need to get some footage to show people that she is fighting with the rebels. Everyone is wondering about our little Mockingjay."

I roll my eyes. "But what about her, and what's best for her? Don't you see how damaged she is?"

Plutarch pauses and stares at me for awhile, his eyes searching mine.

"Peeta, I think its time you start looking at Katniss for what she is, instead of who you think she has become. How do you expect her to find herself again if we keep her hidden away in her room all the time?"

I let out a sigh. He's right.

I look over to Katniss; Finnick and Gale are helping her with one of the simpler workout machines. I don't want to ruin this for her by trying to invest in some heart to heart conversation with her. I notice, however, one of the newer soldiers-probably just turning fourteen or so- is standing behind a machine a few over from Katniss, just watching her. She has long black hair and tan skin. She looks very familiar and I can't help but smile.

I walk slowly over to where Katniss is.

"It looks like you have a shadow." I tell her, repeating the words that I once said to her before and motioning with my eyes to the young girl.

The girl turns her head away as Katniss spots her. She smiles at the girl and I try to take in how beautiful she looks. She then turns back to me and even though its small and not as bright as it once was, she smiles at me too. I offer a smile back and then force myself away. I squeeze my fists together because I want to stay with her. I want to be with her. Seeing her smile at me like that makes me want to reach out and caress her cheek and remind her that I will always stay with her. But I can't. I can't overwhelm her when it's possible she may be making great strides towards seeing me in a different light. I don't want her to take another step back. I want her to continue moving forward.

* * *

When I arrive to training the next morning, I am greeted by Johanna and our trainer York. York tells both of us how she has recommended us for the exam. If we can pass it, we should be able to ship out to the Capitol with the rest of the soldiers in a couple days. This makes me feel relived, as if a huge weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. However, in the pit of my stomach, I am scared. I don't want to have to leave Katniss here alone where I can no longer see how she's doing. I also realize that there's a chance I may never see her again when I board that hovercraft to the Capitol. I could die in combat and never return. Yet, I know that the pros of going greatly outweigh the cons.

"There are four parts to the examination." York explains. "An obstacle course to assess your physical condition, a written tactics exam, a test of weapons proficiency, and finally: combat simulation in the Block."

I fly through the first two parts with great success. I had the second best score on the obstacle course and scored one hundred- perfect on my examination.

"Have you heard anything about part three?" I ask Johanna as we wait in line for our turn at weapon proficiency.

"Apparently the instructors place different weapons in front of us and test how well we can operate each one." She replies.

I nod my head. Johanna gets called in before me, so I am left to wait alone without a companion to keep me distracted.

I try to keep myself calm, and remind my brain why I am doing all of this, and how important it is. I feel like I am back in the tribute center waiting to be called in to show the game's makers my skills. I don't think my painting skills are going to help me this time, however.

"Peeta, you're up." Calls York.

I stand up from my seat and walk through the heavy gray metal doors into a large room where a single examiner waits for me. I have never seen him before, but he stands tall with dark brown hair and blue eyes.

"You are to assemble and use this weapon on the target across the room. You will be measured on proficiency and accuracy." He states firmly.

I walk over to the weapon. It is the standard rifle we have been practicing with all along. It takes me about 15 seconds to assemble it as I have done before, close to fifty times by now. I lift the weapon and balance the end, steadying my shoulders. Aim. Pull the trigger. Fire. Bull's-eye. My bullet pierces the center of the target and I smile to myself.

The next two weapons I complete fairly well too. I am given a marble sized smoke bomb and a knife. Thankfully, I remember to aim the bomb not directly at the dummy, but rather behind it so the individual does not know it is there.

"For your final weapon, you will assemble it and aim again at the target." The instructor explains again, pointing to the fourth table. I walk up to the large black box and look inside. When I see it, my breath falls short; a perfectly crafted bow, with a single silver arrow. It looks so delicate, like it would never belong in my large baker's hands. This weapon belongs in graceful hands; someone who can control such an intricate instrument. This bow belongs in Katniss' small, yet strong hands, not in mine. Then I remember this weapon can't belong in her hands right now, and that I must find a way to operate it so she won't have to. I have practiced with a bow and arrow maybe twice in my life and both times were in the Training Center. I never excelled at it; I always just left that up to Katniss.

Yet I have seen her use this hundreds of time. I have watched the way her face changes when she has a target in mind. I have seen the way her body aligns so perfectly before she releases the arrow, her hand gracing the side of her cheek, the string atop her lips.

I grab the weapon slowly and lift it out of the box, surprised by how lightweight it is. I grab the arrow second and don't even bother trying to twirl it around my fingers like I've seen Katniss do so many times before. I have one goal, and that is to somehow hit anywhere on the target dummy. I place the arrow onto the bow and try to get a feel for the weapon. I do admit that there is a different feeling of holding a bow and arrow in your hands compared to a rifle; it somehow feel less cruel. I'm not really sure why though, a kill is a kill.

I walk over to the target range and lift the bow to my level. I stand with my feet shoulder width apart and hold the bow directly in front of me, locking my right arm. Slowly, I pull the bow back, bringing it all the way to my cheek and resting the string on my lips, keeping my left elbow raised. I allow myself a few slow breaths to aim the arrow the best I can and try to remember how Katniss always does this so effortlessly. I aim for the heart, just as Katniss would and with one more slow breath, I release the arrow. It shoots through the air and with a loud smack, lodges itself right into the dummies left shoulder. No, it wasn't in the heart, but I am no Katniss Everdeen. I am proud of the shot I was able to make.

The instructor nods. "Thank you Peeta, you are dismissed."

When I walk back out of the large metal doors, Johanna is waiting for me with concerned eyes. She must have had the bow and arrow too.

"Are you alright?" She asks.

I nod my head. "I think it went pretty well." I smile slightly.

* * *

York leads us to the waiting area outside the Block for our final test. Everyone around us looks nervous, except for Johanna who seems to care less. I myself am a bit nervous because I have done so well up until this point. I am worried I could blow everything on this final test.

"I heard this simulation is designed to target our weaknesses." Whispers a young girl to my left.

My weaknesses? What are my weaknesses when it comes to combat? I suppose I have a lot of them really. Taking another human life is up there as one of my biggest weakness, however it's a little late for that, as I am signing up for war. So there is nothing I can do, but get over that. I am also not the strongest person or the fastest. I suppose they could target many things. This begins to worry me even more.

Johanna is called in about three people before me and I give her a smile of encouragement before she enters the Block.

It doesn't take me long to begin to wish that I was called in at the top of the list like Johanna because waiting here is killing me. A million thoughts are racing through my mind and I am having trouble sorting through them all.

By the time my name is called, I still don't know what my strategy should be. However, once I get into the Block, I really don't have much choice to figure it out, and to figure it out fast.

I am put into the leadership role, leading a troop of six through the Capitol streets safely. I am given a very strict plan of action that must be followed to have a successful mission. Maybe this is my weakness, being in a leadership position. It wasn't something I originally thought of, but I'm sure the instructors have been able to spot everyone's greatest weakness within the last few weeks of training.

Within minutes, Peacekeepers appear on the roof, shooting at my troops below. I instruct us to get into a double-lined formation with two soldiers on the left and right side shooting back the Peacekeepers with two others in the middle watching out for any surprise attacks. Success.

We make it through the first street without any issues. My heart begins racing rapidly as I realize how real everything seems. As we approach our next street, I holler out to the troop to form a V formation with myself at the peek. With one shot, I take out my first victim and he falls to the ground from a direct shot to the head. I force myself to look away. I shoot again, and again, taking out two female peacekeepers to the right and look away as I watch their bodies fall. All around me I hear screams, some of children and I try my best to block them all out. Bang. I take out my fourth person and we have cleared street number two. By this point, my hands are shaking so I take in two full breaths to try to calm my nerves.

When we enter the third street, it is surprisingly quiet. I instruct the team to remain in a V formation with the two soldiers at the back facing backwards in case of an attack from behind, because already something doesn't feel right. I slow my pace and walk as calmly as I can. Suddenly, a sharp and very distinct scream echoes from around the corner. I know this sound.

I look over and see her there. It's Katniss with two Peacekeepers racing towards her. She has no weapons in her hands. I take off sprinting from my troop completely, leaving my original plan behind. This is much more important. With my rifle in hand, I take out the first Peacekeeper with one shot. Just as I aim for the second peacekeeper, he shoots precisely at the same time as I, but not at me- at her. My shot hits the Peacekeeper in the skull and he crumbles to the ground. I race to Katniss and grab her hand into mine. Her eyes are open and she squeezes my hand in hers. The bullet has stuck her directly in her stomach and blood begins to soak her clothes rapidly.

"Peeta, stay with me." She pleads.

I am holding back tears as I watch the life drain from her face.

"_Always._ Katniss, I will never leave you. _Always._" I tell her, pleading for her to hang on.

She looks up at me with her perfect gray eyes and moves a loose stand of hair from my face. A single tear falls from my eye and I kiss her forehead gently.

Suddenly, a loud bang radiates from behind me and I look up, worried she will be attacked again. But it is not Katniss who is being attacked. My troop is attempting to work their way through a peacekeeper ambush at the top of the street and I watch as one of the member's crashes to the ground following the bang. I am loosing my troops. I am supposed to be their leader. This is my weakness. Katniss is my biggest weakness.

I look to her and she appears frightened, very similar to a small child.

"Peeta, don't leave me!" She begs, gripping my hand.

_This is not Katniss. This is a simulation designed to look like Katniss. I have to leave._

"Peeta...no!" She hollers.

It sounds so much like her, it looks so much like her. But I can't do this. I need to carry out my mission to be successful; at this point I have already lost one solider. I pry her hand out of mine and run from her without looking back. I know if I had stayed too long, it would be impossible for me to leave. Her screams echo behind me, begging me to stay with her. I clench my hands into fists as hard as I can, not wanting to hear those words. This must have been what the jabberjay section felt like during the Quarter Quell, only this time, I can actually see her.

I return to my troop, placing myself directly at the top of the pyramid again.

"Charge forward!" I order and lead my troop onward taking out every peacekeeper before me. My hands are shaking and I worry I won't be able to hit any. But I do and within minutes, we have cleared the third block.

"Simulation complete." An animatronic voice sounds through the speaker.

I drop to my knees and try to catch my breath, not wanting to begin hyperventilating here. I already know my mission wasn't perfect. I lost a solider because of my actions. I just hope I did enough to pass. I wipe a few tears from my eyes before I make myself stand and walk away from the final test.

"Congratulations Solider Mellark." York says to me stamping my hand with a marker that reads PASSED.

I look up at her in disbelief. I can't help it. I hug her instantly.

I am going to the Capitol.

* * *

**Thank you everyone for reading! I hope you enjoyed this chapter! I had to change a lot to accommodate what I believe Peeta's perspective would be. Please let me know your thoughts. See you soon XO **


	21. Chapter 20

The remaining days in 13 speed by me without much of a second thought. Every morning the squad starts off its day with a short workout followed by full time on the shooting range. I practice mostly with a gun, and to be honest, I don't think I will ever be used to the way it feels in my hands. Gale has been using a heavy-duty military style cross bow, while Beetee has designed a special trident for Finnick.

We practice on targets and eventually Peacekeeper dummies where we learn to hit the weak spots in their armor; our squad it remarkably accurate. Along with Gale, Finnick and myself, the squad is made up of five other soldiers from 13. Jackson is Boggs second in command. She is a middle-aged women with a sharp eye who can hit things the rest of us did not even see. There is also a pair of sisters who are identical to each other. The girls are in their twenties and named Leeg. We call them Leeg 1 and Leeg 2. There are also two older men, Mitchell and Homes who do not seem to say much but can easily hit a target from fifty yards away.

The next morning Plutarch comes in and begins to explain our group's status.

"Squad Four-Five-One, you have been selected for a special mission. We have a number of sharp shooters, but rather a dearth of camera crews. Therefore we have handpicked the eight of you to be our 'Star Squad.' You will be the on screen faces of the invasion."

I must say I am a little disappointed to not be of better use in this war, but by the looks of everyone else in the squad, I can tell they are much angrier then I.

"So what you're saying is that we won't be in any actual combat?" Snaps Gale with a disgusted look on his face.

"You will be in combat, but perhaps not always on the front line. If one can even isolate a front line in this type of way," says Plutarch.

"None of us wants that." Finnick remarks. His objection is accompanied by many others in the group. Everyone seems to have a negative opinion on this situation. But I on the other hand, stay silent.

"You're going to be as useful to the war effort as possible." Says Plutarch. "And it has been decided that you are of most value on television. Just look at the effect Peeta had at the hospital in District 8. Do you notice how he's the only one not complaining? He understands the power of the screen."

Everyone eyes turn to me and I suddenly feel very small. Maybe it is because I understand the power of a voice, or perhaps it is because even still, the thoughts of being thrust into the front lines of battle scares me. What ever it is, the others do not seem to be in favour of it.

"Don't worry!" Plutarch interrupts. "You'll have plenty of targets to hit. But don't get blown up. I've got enough on my plate without having to replace you. Now get to the Capitol and put on a good show."

The morning we ship out to the Capitol I am awake much earlier than I should be. I rise from bed and feel the cool concrete on my bare feet for what could be the last time. I exit my room and walk the familiar path down to Katniss' room. When I get there she is sleeping. No more shackles on her wrists on ankles. She is softly breathing, her chest rising and falling. I wish so badly that I could walk into her room and lie down next to her. I want to feel her warm breath on my cheek as she sleeps. But I can't do this, I am off to battle, and there is a significant chance that I may never see this girl again. I want to tell her that I love her, but I can't.

I press my hand up against the cool window to her room and feel the tears welling up in my eyes.

"Good morning Peeta." I hear a familiar voice ask.

"Prim!" I choke out. "Why are you up so early?"

"Same reason as you." She responds. "You're not the only one who loves her Peeta."

I give her a small smile back and nod my head.

"How are you feeling?" She asks, sounding so much older than ever before. This has all aged her significantly. She isn't the same little girl who stood on her tiptoes pressing her face up against the bakery window to admire the baked goods. She is much older, much wiser now.

"I'm better. I'm better knowing Snow can't reach you or reach Katniss. You're safe." I reply

"Next time we see each other we will free of him." She replies.

I reach for her and pull her close to me. She is still so small. I hug her as Katniss would, placing my hand upon the back of her head as if to keep her safe from the outside world.

"Be careful." She tells me.

We board a hovercraft and I sit next to the window as we take off, watching it all fade from me, watching Katniss fade from me.

"You're doing the right thing Peeta." Finnick takes a seat next to me and rests his hand against my knee.

I nod my head trying to convince myself that he is right.

We ride the rest of the trip in silence.

The hovercraft takes us to of all places, district 12, where a transportation train has been set up to take us to the Capitol. No fancy train cars this time, just empty boxcars filled with soldiers sleeping on their packs.

It's really an ironic train ride to be on. Another train ride taking me from District 12 to the Capitol, where I will fight for my life and for the life of the ones I love most in this world. Nothing has changed.

After a few days on the train we arrive inside a mountain tunnel that will lead us to the Capitol. We make the rest of the six-hour hike on foot.

When we emerge from the tunnel we enter into a rebel encampment. The camp is set up in ten-block stretch outside the train station, exactly where Katniss and I have entered the Capitol many times before. I shiver at the familiarity. The area is filled with soldiers this time, no Capitol citizens around. Our squad is assigned a spot to pitch our tents. This spot has been secured for over a week after many rebels invaded to push out Peacekeepers, many lives were lost in the process. The Peacekeepers pushed back deeper into the city where hundreds off pods are waiting for rebels to encounter. All areas are need to be screened before we can move forward.

"What about the risk of a hoverplane bombings?" Mitchell asks as we pitch our tents in an open area.

"Most of the Capitols air fleet was destroyed in the District 2 invasion. If the Capitol has anything left, they are withholding is. We will be safe hear." Boggs replies.

_Safe. _An interesting word choice for people in war I think to myself.

After three days it is clear that Squad 451 is suffering from boredom. Cressida and the crew take shots of us firing things that don't matter. Once in while a real sharpshooter service is needed, but Finnick, Gale, and myself are never chosen.

"I don't think they know what to do with the three of us." I say to Finnick.

"It's our own faults for being so camera ready." He replies

We both smile; a small glimpse of happiness in the midst of war.

After all the complaining about lack of participation, we are each handed a paper map of the Capitol. I note that it forms almost an exact square. We are told to study the grid and the streets that make by the different sectors of the Capitol. Gale looks rather annoyed by this mundane task. But I comply, because what else do I have to do at this point. I thought I knew the streets of the Capitol well after my several trips here. But it is much more complex than I once thought. The commanders are working off of an electronic holograph form of our paper versions known as the Holo. It produces images onto the screen and allows for one to zoom in and study any pods in the area. It is far more superior to any of our paper versions.

The Holo is activated by a specific commanders voice giving his or her name. Therefore is Boggs was killed or severely wounded it could be passed onto someone else. Also, if someone repeats "nightlock" three times is a row, the Holo will explode killing anyone and anything in a five-yard radius. This is so if someone was captured it would disable for security reasons. It is also widely understood that we would all like to be killed rather than be captured or tortured in the Capitol. After seeing Katniss return from torture I know now that I would never want that for anyone.

On the fourth morning the sun is brightly shining, but something tragic happens. Solider Leeg 2 hits a pod that is mislabelled. The pod shoots out a burst of metal darts and one dart finds her brain.

I scream and race to her. Leeg 1 is following closely behind. We watch the colour begin to drain from her face. I can hear Boggs call for a medic, but I can tell that they will not make it in time. Tears begin to fall from Leeg 2's eyes.

I place her head into my lap and her sister clutches her hand. I smooth the loose hair from her face.

"Look up." I tell her. "The clouds are magnificent today. It's amazing how when you live underground for so long you forget the beauty of them."

I watch her eyes slowly trace towards the sky.

I continue. "When I was younger I used to imagine what it would be like to live in a cloud." Everything around me seems silent now. "I used to imagine my own world up there. Some place safe and warm, where I could just lie peacefully inside a little, fluffy cloud. It sounds wonderful if you ask me."

Leeg 2 gives me a small smile, but I can see her struggling to breath. Her sister places a gentle kiss atop her forehead and she is gone. Again I shiver at the familiarity.

Boggs informs us that there will be a speedy replacement. This makes me feel heavy. So easily it seems that we can replace a human a life. I reach for Leeg 1's hand. She squeezes mine gently, and does say anything else to anyone for the rest of the night.

The following evening the newest member of our squad arrives. I walk to the train to see if I recognize the newest recruit. When the train doors open I drop to my knees. No manacles. No guards. She steps down from the boxcar with a gun strapped across her shoulder. The tears rush to me eyes.

451 is stamped into Katniss' hand in fresh ink. How can this happen. The reason why I am here is so she does not have to be.

Betrayal is all I feel.

"Katniss what are you doing here?" Gale asks as I lift my head trying to stable myself.

Boggs is furious by her presence and exits to make a call.

"Calling won't matter." Katniss explains. "The president herself assigned me. She decided the propos needed some heating up I guess."

The anger inside of me builds. Coin lied to me. Her plan was always to send Katniss here. I know now her plan was never to save the Mockingjay.

* * *

**Wow, where do I even begin. To start I think I should say that my intent was never to leave this story unfinished. I know that I have lost many readers in the process because I know if it was me, I would also get tired of waiting around for a story that was never ****undated. I started writing because I loved this story, and I loved these books. Than as my stories grew, the amount of people reading them did too. I am thankful for everyone who reads my story. For the people who have been around from the beginning and are still reading, I can not thank you enough for staying with me. My life has become so busy and things within it have changed. But I want to finish. You just need to be patient with me. In December I will have three full weeks off of work and school. I plan on finishing this story then. Thank you for your comments. Please feel free to let me know what you want to see next and your thoughts on this chapter. I will see you soon. XO**


	22. Chapter 21

The anger inside of me continues to build. I can't stand here any more and look at Katniss. I can't look into her eyes, knowing that she will probably die out here. However before I can even turn around and leave Boggs takes off looking just as frustrated as myself.

"She is going to try to kill you Peeta." Boggs says to me.

"Me!" I scream. "What about her, she is going to die out here! She is not nearly ready or stable enough to be in a war zone! How could Coin to this! She promised!"

Boggs stares at me for a moment and I fight the tears from streaming down my face.

"We will keep her contained Peeta. I don't want you worrying."

I chuckle because I know that I will never stop worrying about her.

"It's because she was the Mockingjay isn't it." I ask Boggs softly. "This war will come to an end one way or another and if Snow dies someone must be president."

Boggs nods ever so slightly.

"She see's her as a threat" I add.

"Coin would deny that." Boggs replies.

"But we know it's true." I say.

Boggs gives me a long stare before he begins to speak. "Coin never liked Katniss, Peeta. That is the reason you were rescued from the area over her. Katniss is a threat. She has always been a threat."

I let out a long breath and walk away before I say anything else I regret. I can't help but feel like I am still trapped in an area. Alliances are forming, and threats are being established. And just as so for my first games and my second, Katniss is still the number one threat. I realize now more than ever how Coin really only has one person in mind. She honestly does not care for what happens to the rest of Panem. She only cares about one person.

Jackson and Boggs set up a two person round the clock watch on Katniss at all times to keep her from hurting anyone or herself. Gale and Jackson take the first watch.

When the dinner bell goes I watch as Gale and Katniss line up to get their dinner. She seems rather tense, but every once in a while she looks up and smiles at Gale and he reassuringly places a hand on her shoulder.

"Peeta you have a phone call." Boggs states, pulling my attention from Katniss and Gale.

He hands me our portable grey phone and I hear Haymitch's familiar voice at the other end.

"Haymitch what is she trying to do? Provoke an attack by sending her hear?" I state boldly into the phone.

"Listen Peeta, I can not be sure on what Coin's motive was by sending her to the Capitol. It clearly wasn't a smart one. But I know you. You are giving her space and distance to try to protect her, aren't you."

I don't respond.

"She doesn't need that right now Peeta. Coin may have sent her hoping that this would end her. But she does not know that. She is a fighter Peeta, she always has been. And whether you believe it or not, she loved you. Maybe not in the same ways you loved her. But she loved you Peeta. You are one of her greatest hopes in getting back. She is a fighter, Peeta, do not forget that. She wants to remember."

Before I can even say anything Haymitch has hung up the phone.

That night the autumn air turns into a winters chill. Everyone curls up inside a sleeping bag trying everything possible to stay warm. Most people attempt to curl up beside a heater. However Jackson informed Katniss that she must sleep in the middle of the tent in order to stay in view, so she remains farthest from the heaters. I do not get much sleep because I lay awake watching. For a while I see Gale doing the same thing, until sleep becomes too much and takes him.

Just after midnight I see Katniss stir. Her body shakes slightly from the chill. I can see her grey eyes glowing in the darkness and she stares up at the sky. As quietly as I can, I get up and grab an extra blanket from one of the storage bins, trying by best not to wake anyone. I walk up to Katniss softly, not wanting to scare her or set her off in any way.

A few feet before I reach her I softly call out. "Hi."

She turns her head towards me. She does not scowl or turn away.

"Hey." She replies and props her self up onto her elbows.

"I brought you this." I tell her handing the worn green blanket to her.

She studies it for a minute and then reaches out to take it from my hands, running her small fingers over the material.

"Thank you." She says softly.

I bend down onto my knees to face her. She leans away.

"It's your favourite colour." I say to her.

She looks up at me and then down at the blanket and nods.

"And yours is orange…right?" She asks sounding very unsure of herself.

"That's right Katniss." I reply, rather surprised that she remembered such a small fact about me. "Orange like the sunset."

She offers me a small smile. And even though it is so small a warm feeling rushes over my entire body to see her smile at me again.

"Sometimes…most of the time actually, I can't tell what is real and what is made up anymore." She explains almost sounding frustrated with herself.

I look to her and so badly just want to hold her and tell her that I will always be here for her. To remind her and explain to her everything that made her who she is.

"Just ask Katniss." Finnick chimes in as he lays awake as the person on guard. "That is what Annie does."

"Ask who? I do not know who to trust anymore." She replies.

"Ask us Katniss. We are you're squad. We are all your allies." Finnick explains.

Katniss looks to me next. Studying my face and most likely wondering if I too, am an ally to her.

"I will be here for you too Katniss. That is what you and I do. We protect each other." I say.

She doesn't respond but keeps her eyes trained onto me. Her face is soft. But I can see that sleep is overcoming her.

"You should get some sleep Katniss. Do you want me to stay with while you fall asleep?" I ask knowing that her answer will most likely be no.

"You would do that?" She replies.

I look at her, taken aback that the word _no _didn't just come from her mouth. Haymitch was right. Without even trying to I was pushing her away. If I want Katniss to get better I need to fight, harder than I have ever fought before. She deserves that. So I lift my gaze and stare right into her glowing eyes.

"Always." I tell her.

She looks back at me and by the look on her face I can tell that these words seem familiar to her. I lift the green blanket over her tired body and watch as her eyes slowly close.

In the morning Boggs takes Finnick, Gale, and I out to shoot some glass for the camera crew. I struggle keeping up with the group due to my lack of sleep the night before.

"That was really nice Peeta." Finnick says to me as we jog back to base camp. "What you did for her last night."

I give Finnick a small smile.

Gale looks over at the both of us confused as to what might have went on while he was sleeping.

When we return the rest of the squad in sitting around a fire. Jackson explains how she has come up with a game called "real or not real" for Katniss. She will mention something she thinks happens and we will tell her if it was real or not real, followed by an explanation.

"Most of the people in district 12 were killed by the fire." She asks.

"Real." Gale sternly responds.

"The fire happened because of me?" She asks again.

"Not real. President Snow destroyed district 12 just like he did to 13. He wanted to send a message to the rebels."

It takes Katniss a long time to study each little piece of information we tell her. I can visibly see how hard she is working to understand and makes sense of all the information she once lost. It does not take long to realize that some of Katniss' greatest confusions revolve around me. She asks about everything from the colour of my shoes in 11 on the victory tour, to the fake baby I made up before our second games. Trying to reconstruct her memory is painful. When she can not seem to make sense of a piece of information that is when the confusion and panic begins. I can tell she is breaking down because she digs her fingers into her temples trying desperately to understand. Usually she can after repeated reassurance that the memory is either real or not real.

"You brought me a blanket last night…and stayed with me until I fell asleep. Real or not real?" She asks.

This gets the attention of many of the squad members who were sleeping as this happened last night. Most of them stare at me waiting for me to respond wondering if such event actually happened without her trying to lunge at me.

"Real." I tell her.

She nods her head as if making sense of that small bit of information relatively easily.

"You are kind." She responds. "Real or not real."

"Real." Finnick chimes in. "Peeta is very kind."

Katniss seems very content with the answers she has just receive and goes back to taking small bites of the slice of bread she was eating for breakfast.

The next afternoon we are informed that the whole squad will be needed to film an importable propo. I understand this because of now the only thing we have been filming is us breaking glass on random buildings. No real combat or action has actually occurred. So I can only imagine Plutarch and Coin are rather unhappy with our performance. Surprisingly Boggs informs us that we will be using real streets that likely contain active pods. Using the Holo, he explains where each of them are. Boggs assigns Finnick the job of staying with Katniss and making sure she knows where to go. I am content with this because I fully trust Finnick.

We suit up in our full combat uniforms. We are each given our speciality weapons and guns. Jackson removes a black carrying case from one of the new storage bins and walks it over to the squad. Inside is a brand new sleek black and grey bow with matching arrows.

"I don't think…" Before I can even finish my sentence Jackson interrupts me.

"This is not a real bow and arrow set." She exclaims. "The tips of each arrow are made out of flexible rubber. They can not do any damage and this is simply just for show."

Katniss looks confused and somewhat annoyed by what Jackson is saying.

She hands her the bow and Katniss' grips it in her hands and places it over her shoulder. In some ways it is comforting to see her like this again. Like nothing has even changed. I notice however that she seems a bit off and uncomfortable wearing it.

"I used a bow like this to kill Marvel…and Cato. Brutus too? Didn't I?" She states.

The rest of the squad looks at Finnick and I, as we would be the ones to answer this question.

"Real or not real? She asks.

I am not sure how to respond to this and by the looks of it neither does Finnick. We both do not want to set her off.

"Real or not real?" She yells becoming agitated at our lack of responses.

"Real." I finally state.

For a minute her frustration seems to grow. I can see Finnick and Boggs getting ready to grab her in case she is set off. But she settles down and her face calms.

"Thanks." She finally replies.

When we realize Katniss is fine Boggs instructs us to begin our trek to the street blocks. He carries the Holo in his hands in order to avoid any active pods. We enter into a narrow street leading to an open area of apartments. A gun fire pod is positioned about one quarter of the way down the street with a net pod around the corner after that.

The squad positions itself awaiting Boggs direction and for Cressida and the camera crew to get into place. Finally someone yells "Action."

We all slowly proceed down the fake smoke filled street. Everyone is assigned a target to hit besides Katniss. Gale is in charge of activating the pod. When he does we all take cover. I look over to see Finnick pinning Katniss behind a door to keep them both out of range to any bullets. After the gunfire stops Boggs tells us to move forward.

I can see that Katniss looks stable, but a bit uneasy. Cressida stops me to get some close ups of my face and I try to focus without looking over at Katniss every chance I get. It all feels a little ridiculous to have to stop at every position to capture a close up of each person's face.

Boggs has to remind us to keep it together because by the looks on everyone's face I am not the only one who thinks this is all a bit ridiculous. I watch Boggs position the Holo to find the best light in the smoky air. He looks up at me when his foot steps onto an interesting looking stone. It quickly triggers a bomb that blows off his legs.


End file.
